


Heal Your Body To Make Me Whole

by fifty_fifty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Blood and Injury, Bodyguard, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Feelings Realization, Frottage, Gay Pride, Getting Together, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Idiots in Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Modern Era, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Post-Canon, Pride, Sharing a Bed, Top Arthur, Top Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifty_fifty/pseuds/fifty_fifty
Summary: Merlin has been Princess Sophia’s bodyguard since he was twenty four and she was twelve. Now, eight years later, she’s out, and wants to attend her first Pride parade. Merlin’s all for it. He’s never hidden his sexuality from his employers, but his number one job has always been protect Sophia and ensure she has the freedom to be herself.When Sophia’s father decides to hire a second man as Merlin’s backup,  however, Merlin takes it as an insult. Not to mention, he thinks the new bloke is an arrogant, homophobic prick.He doesn't know how wrong he is...





	Heal Your Body To Make Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> This fic was written for [Digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter) as part of the Merlin Reverse Bang 2019 for their amazing art, which you can check out on Tumblr [here](https://awesomedig.tumblr.com/post/185307400254/private-security-body-guardsmerthur-created)!
> 
> I was so excited when I saw Dig's art and summary, it sounded right up my street so I am very glad that we were matched together. If you enjoyed the art please feel free to head on over to Tumblr, if you can, and give Dig a reblog and a like! Thank you ♥!
> 
> Also thank you to various friends who encouraged me to keep going your cheerleading was invaluable and a BIG, HUGE thank you for my wonderful beta [schweetheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart) without whom I don't think I would ever have completed this and helped to actually make it readable! Any mistakes still remaining are my own.

Sophia giggled drunkenly as she approached Merlin. She draped her arms around his neck and grinned at him, yelling over the music. 

“Merrrrliiiin,” she shouted. “This is so great! Why haven’t we ever been to a gay club before?” She swung him around in time with the music and swayed to the beat that pulsed through the club. “Come on, Merlin, don’t be such a stick in the mud! Dance with me!” she hollered over the noise. 

With an exaggerated sigh and a roll of his eyes, Merlin slid his arms around her waist and started to dance. Though she was extremely demanding, he was rather fond of his charge, Princess Sophia of Kent. She was a little spoilt and self-centered, but her heart was in the right place, and she adored Merlin. She had done ever since he’d been appointed her bodyguard when she was twelve years old. It wasn’t just a job to Merlin, not any more. It had been at the beginning, but Sophia had rapidly grown to become the little sister he’d never had, and he would sooner die than let someone hurt a single hair on her body. 

His eyes scanned the throngs of people in the club, ever alert. Though he _felt_ as though everything was fine and safe here, he knew from the past that things could change quickly. 

As it happened, there were several very good reasons why they hadn’t been to this club before. Firstly, the denser the crowd, the higher the risk to Sophia’s safety. Secondly, most of the people in clubs were drunk or high, or both, and people under the influence were difficult to predict. And the third, and most important reason, was because this was _Merlin’s_ club, the one he came to when he was off-duty. And though Merlin had never hidden the fact that he was gay, he didn’t like the idea of mixing his work with his own “hunting ground”, as it were.

Sophia had found out he was gay in a roundabout way when she was a teenager. She had asked one day to meet his girlfriend, to which he’d replied that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and had never had a girlfriend, because he didn’t like girls that way. It had taken her a while to figure out what he’d meant by that, and when she had finally twigged, she’d bugged him to meet his boyfriend. 

Merlin had still been dating Will at that time. It was a long distance relationship, with Merlin living in Kensington Palace to guard Princess Sophia and Will still living in their childhood town of Ealdor in Wales. Will had come for a visit a handful of times, and he’d even met Sophia once. But it hadn’t seemed appropriate, nor had it been something Will wanted, for him to move in with Merlin in his apartment next door to the young princess. 

Merlin’s dedication to his job had come between them in the end, though they had remained friends right up until Will’s death. Will had died almost three years ago now. Car accident. Merlin had almost quit his job when it happened, but his mum and Will’s mum had convinced him to stay on. Sophia still didn’t know Will was dead. Merlin hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her; she’d always loved hearing the stories of their misspent youth, even after they’d split up. 

Merlin shook his head as though to rid it of the memories.

“Merlin? Are you okay?” Sophia asked with concern. “You looked sad.”

“Everything’s fine,” he said, smiling. “How late do you want to stay?” 

Sophia threw back her golden head and laughed. “Until the cows come home!”

Merlin ran through a checklist in his head. If they were going to stay until closing, he would need to search the premises more thoroughly. He would need to take note of all the people in the club tonight—though that wasn’t too daunting a task as he at least recognised a few faces. And he would need to repeat the usual security procedures every hour. At least he would be able to speak with Percival and Kay, the doormen, and ask them to make special efforts to keep out any troublemakers tonight. 

“Stop thinking, silly! This is your kind of place, isn’t it? I wanted to come here so that you could have a good time, too. Maybe you can even pull a guy tonight…” Sophia smirked and winked at him. “I think I would enjoy watching you pull.”

“Not tonight,” he replied. If he had his way, Sophia would never see him on the pull, or on a date, or infatuated with anyone else. “I’m on duty, remember?”

“But Merlin,” she whined. “I’m perfectly safe. Nothing will happen. There are men on the door watching who comes in and we’re all here for a good time! So why don’t you let your hair down and relax for a change? Speaking of, I am going to do just that, and get a drink. What do you want?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Looking at him sharply, she said, “Come on, Merlin! How often do you get the chance to enjoy yourself? It’s not often enough, I bet. Now, drink?”

“Water,” he replied, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She pulled away from him and crossed her arms with a huff. “Fine, be like that you stick in the mud. I’m going to go have fun!” 

Merlin watched as she weaved her way to the bar. Satisfied that the room, at least, was secure, he headed off to speak with the doorman and start on his list of checks for the rest of the premises. 

*** 

Returning from his latest security check, Merlin settled down in a booth at the opposite side of the dance floor with a glass of water as Sophia danced, laughed, and had drinks with her friends. He checked his watch and stifled a yawn. 12:36am. It was starting to get late. He wondered idly how much longer Sophia would want to stay. She had classes tomorrow morning, but that had never stopped Sophia in the past, and it didn’t seem like it would stop her tonight, either. And Merlin got it. He really did. He’d had some pretty wild nights when he’d gone to university, too. But then again, he hadn’t been fifth in line for the throne and a known public figure, either. 

A part of his job was to ensure that Princess Sophia did not involve herself in anything that might bring scandal on the family. Still, he supposed that there wasn’t too much which could go wrong here. Sophia just wanted some fun with her mates, which was perfectly normal and expected for a twenty-year-old, and Merlin wanted her to be able to live as normal a life as possible, for as long as possible. 

He knew he let Sophia get away with doing more than she should do. For instance, her father would do his nut if he knew that Merlin had let Sophia come to a gay club. But indulging her a little had never done her any harm in the past. He only wished he wouldn’t have to suffer the same lack of sleep as Sophia in the morning. Although, at least he would be sans hangover, which was more than he could say for Sophia at the rate she was knocking back the drinks and shots. 

Merlin tapped his fingers against the glass that he was gripping tightly with his other hand. He really wasn’t liking being here with Sophia. He hated the thought of mixing his work and private life these days. As a consequence, his private life was practically non-existent. But that was a good thing really, as he didn’t have time for the distractions and the complications that came from relationships. Will had always hated the way his work seeped into their plans. All the last-minute cancellations. The careful planning of his limited time off. And that was without the fact that he’d been a hard-core republican with a deep-seated hatred of the monarchy! Hardly a good thing in a boyfriend if you were a bodyguard to royalty. 

Merlin had tried his best to subtly discourage Sophia from visiting this particular club, but she’d still insisted on going. She had argued that it would be good for the royal family’s image for it to be known that she was LGBT-friendly. Or possibly a little bit more than LGBT-friendly, judging by the way she was snogging that girl. 

Wait.

Snogging a…

_What?_

He glanced back to check and saw Sophia kissing a girl with dark, curly hair that fell down her back. Well, that was certainly new. 

Merlin willed them to turn around so that he could see the girl’s face. They swayed in time with the music, Sophia’s hands resting gently on the girls waist and as they turned, and Merlin gradually saw more of her. Ah, that was definitely a familiar face. He recognised her from Sophia’s English literature lectures. Guinevere, or Gwen... Smith? Yes, Smith. 

He cast his mind back to the start of the year when he had read up on all the students Sophia would be having immediate contact with. Guinevere was from a middle-class family and had grown up in South London with her father, Thomas Smith, who was a jeweller. No mother. She’d died when Gwen was a teenager. One sibling, an older brother called Elyan, who appeared to be backpacking around the world rather than attending university. She’d been marked as low threat and therefore she had been classified as a suitable person for Sophia to be friendly with. 

This was probably a bit more friendly than the palace had ever anticipated. It certainly was for him. He _had_ noticed Sophia looking at women sometimes, but he’d just figured that was normal for women. And she had been extremely inquisitive about how he himself had realised he was gay (it had never really been a realisation for him, he’d just never felt that way about women), bugging him for ages until he’d talked with her about it. And she flirted indiscriminately with men and women alike as well. Always had. So on reflection, it wasn’t really that much of a surprise.

He shrugged and downed his glass of water. Well, good for Sophia. 

Moving out of the booth, Merlin discreetly relocated to a closer spot, scanning the room to see who might be watching. It didn’t look like anyone else had noticed them yet. Good. He’d just wait until this song was over, so as not to make a scene, and then he’d intervene and suggest that they both reconvene somewhere more private. To avoid any unnecessary gossip. 

With a quick tap on the shoulder and a word in Sophia’s ear as the song faded out, Merlin extracted them both from the dance floor, their hands entwined and heads close as they spoke quickly together. 

“Gwen is coming home with me,” Sophia told him.

Of course. Typical Sophia; she couldn’t ever make it easier for him. With a resigned nod, Merlin motioned them towards the exit. 

***

Sophia and Gwen fell into the backseat of the car with a giggle. Merlin settled himself into his seat and did up his seatbelt. He glanced back at them in his rearview mirror. 

“Ready?” he asked as he turned the key in the ignition. 

When there was no response he glanced back again, only to get an eyeful of Sophia in Gwen’s lap, tongue deep down her throat. _Oh Geez._

He cleared his throat. And then did it again.

“Ladies, could you please stop snogging for just a moment?” he asked politely. 

Sophia continued her quest to map out Guinevere’s mouth and flipped him the bird with her free hand. From the noises Gwen was making, Merlin didn’t even want to imagine where Sophia’s other hand was. With a shudder, he hurried to raised the darkened partition between the front and back of the car, then he put the car into gear, trying desperately to scrub his brain of what was probably happening in the backseat this very moment as he drove. The sooner he could get them all home and get away from the pair the better. 

Halfway through the journey home, he heard a tapping on the glass. Merlin ignored it and all thoughts of what or why they could be knocking. It could be accidental, and he did _not_ want an eyeful of anything more than he already had, thanks. 

The tapping persisted, and with a long suffering sigh, he lowered the glass. 

“Yes, Your Highness?” he asked, ever so professionally, keeping his eyes resolutely on the road ahead. 

Sophia laughed behind him. 

“Oh, Merlin, you should see your ears! They’re bright red!” 

“Are not,” Merlin said mulishly, hearing Gwen joining in with the snickering as well. 

Sophia sighed happily. “They are, and we both think it’s adorable. And it’s all right, you can look back now. I want to introduce you both. Now, Merlin, this is—” 

“Guinevere Smith, 19, studying English and North American Studies,” he said, looking into the mirror with a smile.

“Merlin! I’ve told you about doing that. Don’t. It’s creepy.”

“It’s my job,” Merlin replied seriously, changing gear and pushing the accelerator as the car sped onwards. “What kind of bodyguard would I be if I didn’t know who you were going to university with? Although, if you could both wait until I’ve got you safely home to carry on with things, it would be much appreciated.”

Sophia groaned exaggeratedly. “Come on, Merlin. Don’t be a fuddy-duddy. Weren’t you ever young and in love?”

“I’m not!” Merlin said loudly. “And I don’t know. Maybe.” There was a pause as he thought back through his previous relationships. That was love, wasn’t it? He had loved them all, or at least, almost all of them, hadn’t he? “Hey!” he exclaimed. “I still _am_ young!” 

There was more laughter from the mischievous young women behind him. “No, you’re really not. You’ve been my bodyguard for eight years now. Eight years! That’s almost half my life.”

Merlin gripped the wheel tighter. No, that wasn’t right, surely? It couldn’t have been eight years already, could it? He groaned internally. It was. Eight years. He hadn’t really intended on becoming a full-time bodyguard; he’d just fallen into the role. Literally. He had saved the young princess from an assassination attempt, unbeknownst to him, and the rest was history. 

He’d been rushing through London to pick up Gwaine and Elena’s daughter from school (the same one that Princess Sophia had been attending—Gwaine was a rich fucker, even if he didn’t act like it) and he’d dived in front of a child when a car had gone hurtling towards them. He _might_ , just might, have used a bit of magic to push the car off to the side and to shield himself from the glancing blow he’d still received, making sure the child was quite safe. But it had been worth the risk to save a young child’s life. 

After that, everything was a blank. He had spent several weeks in intensive care. Initially, the doctors had said it was a miracle that he’d managed to survive at all. Then they were astonished by how quickly he was recovering. Merlin had kept quiet during all of this part of his hospital stay, having his own suspicions and not wanting the doctors to probe too closely. Will said his mother had been nearly hysterical with worry about his life and about what might happen if the doctors suspected anything. She had always worried that Merlin might get discovered and taken away from her. Which he supposed wasn’t exactly an unfounded concern when you had a toddler who could float a small car with the power of his mind. 

When he’d been discharged, he’d gone through rehab to rebuild the muscle loss and regain the flexibility caused by lack of activity, broken bones, and torn muscles. Yet again, Merlin had been a fast healer, and Gwaine had ensured he’d had the best physiotherapy money could buy. Merlin had ended up faking pain and difficulties in the end to avoid raising suspicion.

One day, when he was working out on the treadmill at the rehab center gym, an old man had approached him. He introduced himself as Gaius Carmichael and asked if he could have word. Cautiously, Merlin had stopped his workout and sat on the bench with the man, reminding himself that if anything untoward _did_ happen, if he _had_ been sent to take Merlin away, Merlin still had the upper hand. 

His fears had been unnecessary, however. As it turned out, Gaius Carmichael worked for the Royal Household, and he had come to convey Her Majesty the Queen’s greatest gratitude for saving her granddaughter’s life. Sophia had been pushed clear of the car and had not a single scratch or bruise on her. 

Gaius had also come with a job offer; as soon as Merlin was better and on his feet, Prince Aulfric—fourth in line to the throne and Sophia’s father—wanted him to become Sophia’s full-time bodyguard/minder. Merlin had protested: he was too young, and he had no experience. Surely there were other people better suited for the role. But Gaius had insisted that they wanted him, and that according to their investigations, Merlin was already currently minding the Earl of Orkney’s daughter. 

His role with Sophia would be similar, and they would provide training to bring him up to speed with the rest. Sophia was a temperamental child who needed someone who could relate to her, not a 30- or 40-something man who would certainly see to her safety, but would not be well-placed to look after her emotional well-being.

Merlin had declined the offer. 

And yet, Gaius persisted. 

Gwaine had hired another childminder in Merlin’s absence, a tall, blonde, harsh-looking woman called Morgause Gorlois. He had offered Merlin his old job back when he was better, but Merlin had not taken him up on his offer, having seen an unexpected show of tenderness between Morgause and Elaine that he had never had with the little girl. 

He had found work as a pharmacy assistant whilst he considered whether or not to go ahead and get his PhD. Eventually, he wanted to work in medical research, or own a pharmacy of his own. 

Gaius became a regular customer. 

“Why are you doing this?” Merlin had asked him. “Why do you come in here, buy things and just leave? You don’t even ask me to come and work for you anymore.”

“Why would I?” Gaius had replied. “You’ve made your choice quite clear.”

Merlin had narrowed his eyes at him. “You think I’m going to change my mind,” he said suspiciously.

Gaius had smiled knowingly. “Yes, I do.”

The wily old man had been right all along. 

His tenacious perseverance had worn Merlin down, and it was only after Merlin had finally given in and asked for more details about the job that the reason why he had been so resolute in Merlin’s recruitment had become clear.

“Interesting technique you used to save the princess,” Gaius said casually.

“I—just did what anyone would have done,” protested Merlin. 

Gaius moved to open the file in front of him. As he opened the file his hand knocked against the cup of hot coffee that was perching perilously close to the edge of the table, sending it clean over. Without his even having to think about it, Merlin’s magic leapt out to save the cup, freezing it in place.

“Extraordinary,” said Gaius, getting up from his chair and looking at the cup suspended in time. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

Merlin let out a breath and the cup splattered to the floor. 

If he really wished for it, would his magic cause the ground to open up and swallow him? He was done for now. He’d fucked up big time. What was this Gaius man going to do to him?

“It’s not what it looks like!” he said, his voice strained.

Gaius hummed and sat back down. “On the contrary, Mr Emrys, I think it’s exactly what it looked like: magic. And exactly what I want for the princess. So, what about it, Mr Emrys? Will you except my offer?”

“What?” Merlin asked. He’d been confused. He had thought Gaius was going to arrest him, or detain him, or something. He’d never expected Gaius Carmichael to react like this.

The old man had flipped open the folder again and pulled out a few photographs and laid them in front of Merlin. “There was a CCTV camera on the street which captured your rescue. We obtained the footage, naturally. Unfortunately, the police report that the camera was faulty. They weren’t able to get any footage. Quite unfortunate.”

Merlin stared at him, his mouth agape as he listened.

“It just wouldn’t do to have a repeat of the media frenzy that happened with the Princess Royal, you understand. These pictures are now completely private and confidential. You have demonstrated amazing abilities. We’ve been watching you ever since. Now that you are recovered from your injuries, we want to train you and assign you to the young princess. I believe that you were given your abilities for a reason, Mr Emrys. Why not put them to good use?”

***

And that’s how Merlin now found himself chaperoning the princess and her… girlfriend? No, it was probably too soon to say that. Her date? Possibly. Back to her private apartment before returning to his own, thankful not to have suffered another overly sexual display of affection between the two. 

Once he’d finished his final evening checks, Merlin reported back to Gaius that the princess was safe and well. He conveniently didn’t mention that Sophia appeared to be potentially questioning or experimenting with her sexuality. It could be a phase, or it could be an experiment, or it could be Sophia discovering who she really was. Either way, Merlin was going to do his damndest to protect her from any scrutiny, either from the public or from the palace, whilst she worked it out for herself. This wasn’t something that needed to be hurried. They would deal with it one day at a time, and they’d figure out if there needed to be some kind of announcement once Sophia wanted there to be one.

After a shower where Merlin took care of himself—he was only human and had needs after all (even if his needs were more a strong chest and shoulders and a nice cock)—he settled down, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep now they were all safely contained within the secure royal apartments. 

***

The next morning, Merlin was rudely awoken by a shrill sound—not his alarm, but the ringtone of his phone. He grabbed blindly at it, squinting at the screen to check the time and the caller. It had just gone 3am and the call was from Gaius. Why would Gaius be calling at this hour? Must be important. Big news, potentially. He swiped at his phone and sat up, covers pooling around his waist. 

“‘Lo?” he asked stifling a yawn. According to his calculations, he’d barely been asleep an hour. 

“Ah, Merlin. I hope you weren’t planning on getting a good night’s sleep.” 

“Um…” 

“Because you won’t be getting any. A news journalist has just forwarded me a copy of tomorrow’s Daily Mail.” 

Merlin frowned, scrambling out of bed. “Oh God. What’s happened?” He tucked his phone between his shoulder and ear as he grabbed a pair of jeans and reached for his Glock, one eye already on the door. “Has there been an accident? A terrorist incident? Is Sophia in danger?” 

He pushed out his senses, feeling for any kind of untoward presence, and strode over to his computer. He tapped on the keyboard bringing it out of snooze mode. 

As his eyes scanned the screen, he readied his gun and he eyed the door again. Ready to go at a moment’s notice. 

“No, no. Stand down Merlin, it’s nothing like that,” replied Gaius. 

Merlin’s shoulders slumped with relief, but he still cast his eyes over the current footage of the security cameras. It never hurt to be cautious. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Where were you and Sophia tonight?” 

Merlin fell silent. Shit. He didn’t like the sound of this. He didn’t like the sound of it at all. 

“She, uh, she wanted to go clubbing. It’s not like it’s something she’s never done before. She’s a student! We agreed she would be allowed to have a normal student experience, and in exchange for some exclusive interviews, the press wouldn’t harass the princess nor interfere with her student life!” Merlin babbled nervously. He exhaled, trying to calm himself down. “We just went out.” 

“And was there anyone else in your merry little party? Say, a girl? Pretty, with dark curly hair?” 

“You know there was, or you wouldn’t ask.” Merlin sighed. “And what kind of protection would I be for Sophia if I didn’t watch who interacted with her? Her name is Gwen Smith and she’s second year English student. She’s a friend.” 

Merlin could hear the ruffling of some papers at Gauis’ end of the line. “Mmm, yes. They definitely look quite friendly to me,” commented Gaius. 

Merlin sat down at the table, rubbing his face with his hand. “Gaius, please. Cut to it. What kind of story are they running?” 

“They’re going to run a story about her night out, with a picture of her kissing her new lady friend. I’m sending you a copy now.” 

The email popped up in his inbox and Merlin opened it immediately. He scanned the story and examined the picture. It was a little grainy, but it was undoubtedly Sophia snogging Gwen, with several smaller images of them all leaving the club together.

“Shite,” he murmured.

“Indeed.”

“Is this the only paper running with it? What about our agreement? Sophia is entitled to a private life! And we don’t even know that she’s gay or bisexual or even just experimenting yet! This is what normal young people do!”

“But Princess Sophia isn’t a normal person, is she? As a member of the royal family, she’s a figure of national interest. Now, I’m not blaming you for this, Merlin. But I wished to prepare you and discuss how Kensington intends to respond. I have contacted my sources to confirm how many papers are running with this, but unfortunately we were tipped off too late. The papers are all printing as we speak. The story will run and we will have to do damage control. As for our agreement, well, we will just have to misplace the Mail’s invitations to any future exclusives with the princess, won’t we?”

Merlin laughed a little under his breath. Fuck the Mail. He was glad they now had a legitimate excuse to close them out of Princess Sophia’s media circle. 

“So, what happens next? Are we enacting protocol 56?” 

“Not quite.” 

“I’ll arrange a car for Ms Smith in the morning,” said Merlin. 

“No need. Bring her to Kensington with Princess Sophia. She needs to be briefed about their burgeoning relationship, and we need to ask her a few questions for our statement about how she and the princess met.” 

“But—but they literally just met!” 

“Indeed. Love at first sight; the papers will love it.” 

Merlin stood up and started to pace the room. “You can’t make decisions for Sophia like that!” 

“The princess understands how these things work, Merlin. I realise that you’ve been with her a long time now, and you feel protective of her, and sympathetic, especially given the current situation. But this what is expected. The royal palaces will declare that Sophia and Ms Smith are deeply in love and they will court each other publicly for a few months. If they decide that after this time they do not wish to be together, then they will be free to part ways without incident or uproar, and Ms Smith will then be able to fade into obscurity. It’s better this way. And that is why I need you to bring her along with you. She will need to be briefed as a potential Princess Consort.” He paused. “So, we can expect to see you in, oh, two, possibly three hours, then?” 

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “You want me to wake them and get them whisked off to the palace at 3am in the morning?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Very good, Merlin. Your listening comprehension is excellent. I will see you shortly. And trust me, once this news breaks, you will all be very glad you came.” 

***

By the time they were all pulling into a side entrance of Kensington Palace, Merlin was very glad indeed that they had left campus and retreated to private property. Princess Sophia and Gwen had been searching social media on their phones as they travelled. Sophia had been wailing alternately about how her life was over, and how she was going to explain it all to her father, before calming herself and apologising to Gwen for dragging her into things. Guinevere, Merlin noticed, was rather quiet, but extremely observant. She’d asked very few questions, but the ones she had asked were extremely astute. He wasn’t sure how she was going to take being told by the palace staffers that she and Sophia were now officially dating. Personally, Merlin wouldn’t care to wake up after pulling a guy at a club, only to find himself officially coupled with them publicly the next morning. But then again, Merlin had never pulled royalty before. 

Once parked, he opened the door for Sophia and Guinevere and ushered them inside.

“Your Highness!” greeted Gaius with a bow before hurrying forward to meet them all. Though he was old, he could be quite spry when he wanted to be, and part of Merlin thought he especially enjoyed dealing with royal scandals and rumours. Not that Gaius would ever admit it. 

“Gaius!” Sophia exclaimed. “You are a sight for sore eyes! It is so wonderful to see you.” She kissed him soundly on each cheek and held him away from her as her sharp eyes examined him. “Are you quite well?”

“I am very well, Princess Sophia. Thank you for asking. I hope that you are similarly in good health?” Gaius bobbed his head towards Guinevere. “Good morning, Ms Smith. Sincere apologies for extraordinarily early wake up call this morning. I am Gaius Carmichael, Lord Chamberlain for the royal household. Please do let me know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable.” 

“Oh, um. Thank you, but—but I’m—I’m fine,” Gwen stuttered, clinging more tightly to Sophia’s arm. 

“Right then, if you delightful young ladies would like to follow me, I will take you to your rooms so that you can sleep before we brief you on the day to come,” Gaius held out an arm to each of them and Sophia instantly stepped forward and took it. “And Merlin? Prince Aulfric would like a word with you in his study before you retire.” 

Merlin felt his heart sink. If Prince Aulfric wanted to speak with him at this early an hour, it was inevitably because he was unhappy. Not that Merlin could blame him, really. Merlin should have prevented this. He should have ensured that Aulfric’s daughter had the privacy that she deserved, the privacy he had been hired to protect. He mentally made a note to review all the available information on the incident when he got back to his room, so that he could figure out how it happened in the first place. Then he would start to action a plan to ensure that it wouldn’t happen again. 

He took a deep breath and straightened his back. Better get it over with as soon as possible. 

***

Merlin knocked politely on the polished hardwood door and waited for a response. 

“Come!” called a deep voice. 

With a big sigh, Merlin opened the door and slipped inside. The office on the other side was plush and opulent. The interior was filled with beautiful old furniture that Merlin knew full well had seen more history than any furniture had a right to. The heavy green velvet curtains were still drawn, given that the sun had still yet to rise, and a log fire burned in the grate behind the huge, intricately carved desk. 

The air was heavy and still as Merlin stared at the fireplace, his eyes tracing the family crests and motifs that were illuminated by flames. The only sounds that cut through the silence of the room were the ticking of the grandfather clock and the gentle scratch of a fountain pen on paper. As the time stretched on without a word from Aulfric, Merlin found himself becoming more and more nervous about what was to come. Was he going to get fired there and then? Or would Aulfric give him a notice period whilst they found a replacement, which would at least allow him to move himself out of his apartment at the palace? Not that Merlin really had anywhere else to go. Perhaps Gwaine would put him up for a bit, to save him from having to move back in with Mum. 

He stood patiently where he was, waiting for Prince Aulfric to finish and decide his fate. 

Prince Aulfric was an intimidating man. He wasn’t tall. On the contrary, Merlin towered over him. But he still managed to strike fear and dread into the hearts of those around him. He was neatly turned out, as one would imagine a prince would be. His hair was white and balding with his advanced age, and he had a neatly trimmed beard and wore an impeccably tailored suit. 

He spent most of his time sporting a permanent scowl. The only time Merlin had seen the man truly pleased was when Sophia was with him. If you weren’t Sophia, then he was not someone you would want to trifle with. He was polite, but stern. Proper, but demanding. And most of all, he was extremely protective of his only child. 

Finally, he put down his pen on the desk with a flourish and looked up at Merlin. 

“Ah, Mr Emrys,” he intoned. Prince Aulfric always referred to him as Mr Emrys, despite Sophia’s pleading for him to use Merlin’s first name instead. 

“Your Highness,” said Merlin, bobbing his head. “I wanted to let you know I am taking this breach of the princess’s privacy _extremely_ seriously and will be investigating exactly how it happened as soon as possible, so that we can implement new procedures to prevent it from happening again.”

“As I would expect, Mr Emrys,” Aulfric agreed and Merlin felt his heart sinking. The prince didn’t seem placated any by his speech. “I asked you to attend this meeting to discuss a far more serious matter.”

Merlin frowned and slowly took a step further into the room. “Sir, honestly, I can assure you—”

“Sit down, Mr Emrys,” Aulfric said sharply.

Merlin swallowed and took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs in front of the prince’s desk. 

“I wanted to ask you about Sophia.”

“Yes, sir. I will answer you as best I can.” 

“You’re a—a gay man, Emrys. So I thought... I thought you might be able to shed some light on the situation. In those photographs Gauis acquired… Sophia… she was kissing another woman.”

Merlin nodded his head, not really sure how Aulfric figured that Merlin’s own sexuality played into all this.

“Is this… a regular thing that she does? Is Sophia a… a lesbian?”

“I—I don’t know, sir. I mean, it’s the first time that I’ve seen her show such an interest in a woman. But that doesn’t mean that she hasn’t kissed someone else, or been thinking about it. And just kissing another woman wouldn’t necessarily make her gay, sir. She could just be curious, or possibly bisexual. Forgive me for saying so, but I think this is a conversation you ought to have with Sophia, not with me. I’m here to make sure that she’s safe, and she is with me, sir, I can assure you of that. But she’s young and she’s at university, and this is the kind of thing people do at this age. They try new things and try to discover who they are. Sophia may be a princess, but she’s still a person like everyone else, and she wants to experience things like everyone else, too. That’s part of the reason she decided not to go to Oxford or Cambridge, sir. And as I said, intend to find out exactly how her privacy was breached and ensure it never happens again.”

Aulfric waved his hand at him. “Yes, yes. So, you think it’s possible she’s gay then? And serious about this woman?”

“I think she and Guinevere Smith just met. I don’t think Princess Sophia is serious about anyone.”

Prince Aulfric sat back and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “She will have to be,” he said in a decided voice. “Her experimentations have put us in a rather difficult position. You may go, Mr Emrys.”

“But, sir—I’ve heard the plans and I don’t think you should force Sophia and Gwen to—”

Rising to his feet, Aulfric cut him off abruptly. “When I want your input, Mr Emrys, I will ask for it. As you said, your job is to keep Sophia safe. The palace’s job is to preserve the monarchy’s image and deal with scandals such as this.”

“I don’t think that it’s a _scandal_ —”

“ENOUGH, Mr Emrys! You are dismissed.”

Merlin scowled, though not directly at Prince Aulfric, and got to his feet. He schooled his face and nodded sharply before turning and trying his best to walk calmly from the room. Once outside, he curled his hands into fists and huffed out a breath. The gym. He’d head to the gym on the next floor for a bit to calm down. Then he’d get started figuring out how this whole thing had happened.

***

Merlin took the pile of newspapers from Gaius’s hands and started to spread them out on the table in front of them with increasing despair. This was awful. The princess and Guinevere—or Gwen, as she preferred to be called—were on the front page of every daily tabloid and broadsheet newspaper in the country. And even on one or two other international papers. Ranging from a fairly respectable; _‘Is Britain Ready for a Gay Queen?’_ from The Times to The Sun’s _‘Lesbo Princess Scandal: The palace is in crisis!’_.

He let out a deep breath. This was bad. No wonder Aulfric had been so upset.

He pulled up a chair and rubbed his face with his hands. Gaius remained standing. 

“What are we going to do, Gaius?” Merlin asked.

“The press office are currently reviewing all the content and discussing the merits of composing a short statement for release in the morning,” Gaius told him. “If we release a statement, then we control the story, not the press. Her Highness and Ms Smith will be briefed on their decision and the itinerary for the upcoming day when they awake for breakfast in the morning.”

“And what about me? My job...” Merlin asked hesitantly.

Gaius patted him kindly on the back. “Don’t worry, my boy. Your job is safe. The prince is upset, but he is not without reason. In this age of technology and instant communication instances such as this are going to become more common. We, as an institution, need to be robust. We need to evolve and adapt not just how we react with the modern world, but how we interact too, and we will need to start to accept that we cannot control everything that happens. Somethings just have to run their course and be managed as best as possible.”

Merlin nodded. “Well, I’ll be conducting a review of all the events leading up to this as a matter of due course, with an initial report ready for the morning, sir.”

“As I would expect from you, Merlin,” said Gaius as he pulled up a chair himself and sat down next to him. “We also ought to have a conversation about why you chose not to inform me of this when it happened. It was not a pleasant surprise to receive that call from my contact and discover that the British media already knew about Princess Sophia and her new… beau. I should have heard it from you.”

Merlin shook his head. “I disagree. It’s not anyone’s business but her own and the person she’s with as to who she’s dating or who she’s attracted to. Certainly it’s not the business of the press office or the British media! I chose not to tell you, because I didn’t want it to be made into some kind of big issue. I wanted to give Sophia her privacy.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin. “And how did that work out for you?” he asked sarcastically. “It _is_ the press office’s business precisely because of events like this.” He gestured to the newspapers in front of him. “If we are aware then we can protect the princess from prying eyes and unwanted attention. If we had been forewarned about the princess’s preferences we could have planned for this. We could have tested the waters and slowly introduced the rest of the world to the idea of a gay royal, rather than this baptism by fire.”

Merlin sighed. “That’s a good point, well made. I just wish she could have a normal life and a normal adulthood.”

“You know that that is impossible, no matter how well intentioned you are,” Gaius said kindly. “The princess is not normal. But it’s not all bad, is it? Look at all the privileges and experiences that she has had, that you’ve had all because of her birthright. I know you’ve always had difficulty with this, but Princess Sophia’s life is not her own. A part of her belongs to the public and always will. So in the future, please talk to me about these things. Okay?”

“Fine.” Merlin reluctantly agreed. 

***

It took several days before the palace deemed it safe for Sophia to return to university, and even then, Merlin made sure to put out his “keep the fuck away” vibes as much as possible as she went about campus. And if he used a little bit of magic here and there to keep people from noticing her too much, well, that was a matter between himself and Gaius.

Sophia had taken the news of her and Gwen’s ‘relationship’ pretty well. She’d talked extensively with Merlin afterwards, saying that she’d known what was expected of her and that whilst she had thought about women that way before, she hadn’t really wanted to date another woman until she’d met Gwen last year. That had blown Merlin away a bit. How had he missed that? Sophia had developed a crush right under his nose, without him even noticing it. Maybe he wasn’t as observant as he thought he was. It had only been when Sophia had seen Gwen at the club that she’d felt brave enough to do anything about it. And, ultimately, she’d been glad to be able to spend a few days alone with Gwen, albeit not in ideal circumstances. So long as Gwen wasn’t planning on running away screaming from the dramatics and difficulties that came with dating royalty, Sophia wanted to see how things went, because she really liked Gwen. 

Everyone had kept asking her if that meant she was gay now, and she had come to Merlin with that too.

“Merlin,” she’d said in a wheedling tone, the day after the story broke. 

Merlin had raised his eyebrows questioningly. He knew that tone of voice, and it didn’t usually bode well. 

“People keep asking me if I’m gay,” Sophia said, sidling up to him. 

“And?” he’d replied, waiting for her to elaborate, as he knew she would. 

“And I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure if I am or not. I don’t know if it’s just Gwen, or if I’ve always liked women, or if I even like guys. It’s all so complicated! How do I know for sure?” Sophia had sighed and looked up at him with sad, but curious eyes. “How did you know that you were gay?” 

Merlin had blown out a breath and scratched his head, trying to remember when he’d first had that moment of realisation. 

“I dunno. I just… realised that when all the other guys at school started talking about girls and boobs and stuff that I just wasn’t interested. That should have probably clued me in then. But I think I realised properly sometime after my first date. I was so nervous about it that I thought it meant I must like her. But then I realised it was because afterwards I’d have to kiss her and stuff, and I just—I didn’t want to do that. Don’t get me wrong, she was lovely, but still. I took her home and sure enough, she tried to kiss me. I left as quick as I could afterwards and I couldn’t understand why the other boys thought kissing was so good. And then I realised it wasn’t really girls that I thought about when—” Merlin had groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “Oh God, why am I even telling you this?” 

Sophia had sniggered. “You’re so cute. You’re as red as anything.” 

“Anyway. I guess I realised I never liked girls _that way_ ,” he mumbled. “It might take you a while to figure it out, too.” 

Sophia nodded. “So what do I tell my father?” 

“The truth. That you’re not sure yet. And, I dunno, you might want to join the LGBTQ+ society at uni. Could be good to speak with other people in the same boat, so to speak. I know I wish I’d had some people to talk to who were questioning or who already knew when I was still trying to figure things out.” 

***

Propped up against the wall in a darker part of one of the student bars on campus, Merlin watched on as a group of young, vibrant students were gathered around several tables all chatting excitedly together. Sophia was in the midst of them, and though he couldn’t hear their conversation, Merlin had no doubt that she was charming them all. After all, she’d been trained to do so from a young age. She had that look on her face that enchanted people and got them on her side. As she continued talking, even the reluctant boy with dark, curly hair on the outskirts of the group earlier—who’d been determined to snub her merely for who she was—was drawn into her story. 

“Hey,” said a man’s voice in his ear, his breath hot on Merlin’s neck. Merlin slowly turned around, and found a leather-clad man with greasy dark hair, blatantly checking him out, his eyes roaming over Merlin’s body. It sent a shiver down Merlin’s spine, and not in a good way. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Not interested,” Merlin told him, not even looking him in the face.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” The man asked with disbelief. 

Merlin glanced over at him and repeated himself, speaking a little louder this time. “I said, I’m not interested.”

The man sneered. “All right, mate. No need to be homophobic.”

Smiling wryly, Merlin laughed. “I’m not.”

“Why are you being such an arsehole, then?” The man tried his best to loom over him, even though he was shorter than Merlin by at least three or four inches. “It’s queer night!”

Merlin shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” 

Squaring up, the man started to shove into him. “Yeah?” he snarled. 

Merlin glared and pushed him firmly away with a hand to his chest. “You listen to me,” he told him, his voice low and dangerous. “I am _not_ interested. So I suggest you go ahead and leave, before I make you.”

His lip curling, the man looked at him with distaste and gave Merlin another shove. Merlin’s resolve hardened and he fisted the man’s shirt and pulled his face closer to his own. “It’s going to be like that, is it?” 

A look washed over the man’s face as he realised he had picked the wrong battle to fight and he held up his hands, saying sulkily, “All right, mate. Keep your hair on. I was just going anyway.”

Merlin gave him a curt nod and loosened his grip, giving him a solid push away.

A few minutes later, Sophia bounced over to him, Gwen in tow.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Hmm?” Merlin replied, casting his eyes over the bar, ever alert for anything that might be amiss.

“The man who came over to you,” Gwen said, grinning.

“Did he ask you out?” said Sophia, gleefully.

Merlin shook his head and rolled his eyes at them. “That’s none of your business.”

Turning to Gwen, Sophia smiled. “That’s a yes.” She looked back at Merlin. “So did _you_ say yes?”

“No!”

“A-ha! So he _did_ ask you out!” 

“I never said that,” Merlin retorted with a scowl. “Either way, it’s irrelevant. I’m working.”

“It’s okay, Sophia thinks it’s cute. She told me,” said Gwen.

Making a noise of exasperation, Merlin ushered them towards the door to walk them home. “And I thought it was bad dealing with one woman. Two of you are impossible,” he grumbled.

Sophia and Gwen linked arms with Merlin on either side. “You love us, really!” sing-songed Sophia, as Merlin shook his head. “Anyway, we have big news! Gwen and I are going to go to Pride this year with the rest of LGBT+ Soc!”

***

It was late on a Sunday afternoon, and Merlin stretched in his chair. He and Gaius had spent a long day discussing the security arrangements necessary for the princess to attend—no, be _in_ —the Pride parade. Once it had got out that Sophia was gay and would be attending Pride, she had been invited to be part of it. They had been back at Kensington for a week now so that the princess could spend the Easter holidays with her father, and she had begged and begged to be allowed to attend until, eventually, Aulfric had caved. Now, plans were being made to ensure Sophia’s safety during the parade.

The was a sharp knock against the open door and Merlin startled into an upright position, forgetting he wasn’t really on duty. Prince Aulfric’s butler, George, smiled genially, bowed at them and then entered the room.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he greeted them. 

“George,” Gaius replied. “How can we help you?”

Standing stiffly just inside the doorway, George turned to Merlin. “His Royal Highness, Prince Aulfric wishes to speak with Mr Emrys about an important matter of state business.”

“You mean he wishes to talk about Princess Sophia attending Pride this year?” said Merlin, getting to his feet.

“This way, Mr Emrys,” said George breezily, pointedly ignoring Merlin’s correction.

They made their way through hallways and corridors until they reached the familiar door of Prince Aulfric’s office. George knocked smartly, and Prince Aulfric’s commanding, “Come,” was heard from within.

The straight-laced butler opened the door for Merlin to enter and then silently slipped away, leaving Merlin alone with his employer.

Prince Aulfric rose from his seat to greet him.

“Ah, Mr Emrys. Thank you for coming. I wanted to discuss with you an important development in Sophia’s security.”

“Yes, Sire,” said Merlin, folding his arms behind his back. “The Pride parade?”

“In part. I wanted you to take a look at these.” Prince Aulfric passed him a folder.

Merlin eyed it curiously and took it from him. He opened the file and scanned the first page, then quickly turned to the next and the next. He looked up sharply at Prince Aulfric, feeling sick to his stomach.

“How long has this been going on?” 

“Since the British media deemed it necessary to publish those damned pictures,” Aulfric snapped.

Finally finishing with the last paper, Merlin closed the folder. “And do we know who might be sending them?”

“The police are investigating, but they’ve said it’s unlikely they will be able to trace it back to one person.”

“Sir, could I—can I ask why I wasn’t informed? Forgive me for saying this, but I can’t help but think this is essential information for me to know when it comes to keeping the princess safe,” said Merlin, unable to hide the tinge of annoyance in his voice. 

Prince Aulfric took his seat again and steepled his fingers. “We didn’t want to cause any undue concern or upset to Sophia unnecessarily. We believed she would be safe enough during term-time at university. But this Pride parade that she wants to attend… This changes things. That’s why I called you here.” Aulfric paused and pressed a button on the intercom. “Send him through, George.”

The door connecting Prince Aulfric’s study to his adjoining rooms opened and in came a man with carefully coiffed blond hair and an expensive looking suit. He looked supremely cool with his aviator sunglasses and a jawline that could cut glass.

“Sir,” the man greeted, coming to stand by the prince’s desk.

“Ah, Arthur. Thank you for coming,” said Aulfric, smiling and shaking his hand warmly whilst Merlin watched on. “How is Uther?”

“He’s very well, sir.”

“Send him my regards,” Aulfric said.

The man nodded his ridiculously beautiful head.

Merlin quietly observed them, wondering what the hell was happening, Aulfric had never reacted that warmly to him, and he was beginning to wonder whether he was even still supposed to be there. He couldn’t help thinking that the man in front of him had to be one of the most gorgeous specimens of mankind he’d ever seen.

“Mr Emrys, let me introduce you. This is Arthur Pendragon. Arthur, this is Merlin Emrys, my daughter’s personal bodyguard.”

Stepping forward, the man—Arthur—removed his sunglasses and looked at Merlin with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Merlin swallowed heavily and shook his hand with a firm grip as he tried to size the man up. He was ever so slightly taller than Arthur Pendragon, but whereas Merlin was on the slighter side, Arthur appeared to be more stockily built; heftier. He was clean-shaven and dressed impeccably, and Merlin didn’t think he’d heard the name Pendragon before, but somehow it seemed strangely familiar. Just who was he?

“Mr Pendragon,” Merlin said politely.

“Mr Emrys, a pleasure to meet you,” Arthur replied, and they finally let go of each other’s hand as if by mutual agreement.

“Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why Arthur is here, Mr Emrys,” Prince Aulfric said. Merlin had forgotten he was even there. “I have hired Arthur to assist you with Princess Sophia’s protection.”

“I’m sorry?” asked Merlin, finally tearing his eyes away from Arthur. He was sure that he must have misheard his employer.

“I’ve decided in light of recent events that Sophia requires a second bodyguard,” said Aulfric.

“A second— But you just told me yourself that Sophia was safe!” Merlin said hotly.

Aulfric raised a stern eyebrow at him, as if to remind him of his place. But Merlin was still fuming. 

“Sir, I promise you that I am more than capable of keeping the princess safe! I—”

Aulfric interrupted him. “And I want to keep things that way. In light of the hate mail, death threats, and now this daft idea of hers to walk in this Pride parade, I felt there was no choice. I expect you to bring Arthur up to speed with our protocols. He has an extensive C.V. of private security, so I’m sure he will pick things up quickly.”

“Yes, sir,” said Arthur.

“And I expect the two of you to work together. Do I make myself _clear_ , Mr Emrys?” 

Merlin chewed on his lip mutinously. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me, Emrys. You have a spare room in your apartment, do you not?”

“Yes, sir. For surveillance and storage purposes.”

“Good,” said Aulfric clapping his hands together. “You can empty it out and Arthur can move in. George will assist you both. That will be all.”

***

The next morning, Merlin did actually wake to the blaring noise of his alarm. He squinted and shut it off. He had no plans for today; what with the late night/early morning arrival at the palace the day before, he had been given a day off. His first day off in ages, really, and he intended to spend at least most of the morning right where he was: sleeping. As he shifted, he let out a hiss, as sharp pain followed by a dull ache burned through his shoulders with the movement, a reminder of all the heavy lifting they had done the night before. All in aid of Arthur, so that he could move his things into the second bedroom of Merlin’s apartment. Merlin bristled at the invasion of Arthur into his thoughts. He was still angry and, quite frankly, insulted that Aulfric thought he couldn’t protect Sophia adequately, especially given all that he had done for her in the past eight years. All that time and relationships and friendships he’d sacrificed. All the times he’d kept her from harm. It felt like a slap in the face. 

Despite all that, Merlin had tried to extend a hand of friendship to Arthur yesterday. After all, he was a professional, and it wasn’t like it was Arthur’s fault he’d been hired on. Either way, it looked like they were going to be stuck working together for the foreseeable future, so better to make the most of it and at least try to get along. 

He had asked Arthur some gentle questions about where he was from, and about his friends and family, as well as enquiring about what jobs he’d had in the past, trying to put together a bit of background and context for the rather beautiful man. But Arthur been short and sharp in his replies and standoffish in general, almost to the point of being rude. Merlin couldn’t say he liked the man’s personality, but looks-wise, Arthur was like a Greek god. 

Memories of Arthur helping to move the boxes out, all sweaty with his sleeves rolled up and his white shirt, almost transparent in a few places, clinging to his chest, flitted unbidden into Merlin’s head. He groaned as he pressed his face into his pillow. No. He wasn’t going to do this. He was _not_ going to harbour a crush on his work colleague. Absolutely not. One hundred percent out of the question. Instead, he would go back to sleep for a few hours. Then he’d get up, have a nice hot shower, breakfast, and then maybe watch some TV and chill out. 

He was startled by a sharp knock on his door. 

“Merlin?” came a voice, as the door slowly opened. Arthur poked his head inside and eyed him with a scowl. “Aren’t you up yet?”

“No, I’m not,” Merlin moaned, throwing an arm over his face. “Go ‘way.”

“Well, why not?” demanded Arthur. “We need to go for a jog before breakfast. Come on, you can show me the grounds at the same time.”

Arthur strode over to the bed, whipping the covers off Merlin with a flourish. Merlin let out a squeak and reached for the duvet, to try and wrench it back from him and cover himself. Arthur let out a strangled sound as he realised that Merlin did in fact sleep nude. 

Merlin glared up at him, still trying to regain his sheets to preserve at least a modicum of modesty. Arthur licked his lips and his eyes flicked down to Merlin’s crotch before he hastily averted them, and Merlin felt a surge of magic fizzle through his body. After what felt like an eternity, but was more likely a few seconds, Arthur dropped the duvet like it was a red hot poker and tore his gaze away from Merlin, before he rushed from the room.

Flopping back on the bed, now reunited with his duvet, Merlin heard the door to the apartment slam shut with a resounding bang. As the afterglow of magic slowly filtered away, he let out a big sigh. Jesus Christ. What the hell had that all been about? 

***

He was in the kitchen—dressed now in pyjama bottoms and an old T-shirt—making tea and eating a bowl of cereal when Arthur returned. Hot and sweaty, Arthur’s face was flushed from his exertions, his fringe damp and flat against his forehead, his shorts clinging to his strong, muscular thighs... Merlin bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to turn away with his back to Arthur. 

“Tea?” he asked politely.

“Um, no. But, thank you,” Arthur replied. 

Arthur went over to the fridge and pulled the door open. Merlin glanced at him over his shoulder, studying Arthur’s face as he surveyed the contents with a puzzled expression, and felt his magic surging warmly once again. 

“How on earth do you live on this, Merlin? Where’s all the food?” 

Turning around, Merlin leaned back on the counter. He spooned some cereal into his mouth and shrugged apologetically, talking around the mouthful. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a houseguest, _Your Majesty._ ” 

Arthur scowled at him, but let the comment stand. He started searching through the salad crisper and pulled out a few carrots, and the last of the kale Merlin had brought the week before. Merlin watched as the muscles in Arthur’s back rippled and flexed with his movements. He picked up the carton of soya milk with a look of confusion before Merlin finally snapped out of it and forced himself to turn away.

“By all means, help yourself,” he couldn’t help saying sarcastically. 

“Keep your hair on. I’ll replace it,” Arthur grumbled in reply. He glanced over at Merlin and his lip curled. “Coco pops, Merlin? Honestly, what are you, five? Besides. I’m a guest, and you should at least feed your guests. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Merlin snorted. He put down his cereal and focused on taking the teabag out of his tea and reached over to grab the soya milk. He had to bite his lip, catching sight of a sliver of exposed skin as Arthur reached up into the cupboard to pull out some honey and a jar from Merlin’s peanut butter stash.

No, he told himself sternly. He was NOT going to have a crush on a work colleague. No matter how gorgeous he looked post-run. 

Or in a suit. 

Or in jeans and shirt, like he had been the night before. 

Oh, fuck. 

Merlin curled his fingers around the edge of the counter. He needed to get a grip. Besides, he reminded himself, he was annoyed that Arthur was even here. Annoyed at the fact that Prince Aulfric thought he couldn’t keep Sophia safe. The mere thought of that brought the anger rushing back. And here Arthur was in his kitchen, without having so much as asked to meet with Sophia. All he had seemed concerned with so far were security protocols and plans and the layout of the grounds. 

There was a dull thud nearby as Arthur deposited everything on the countertop, and Merlin watched out the corner of his eye as Arthur scanned the room, looking for something. 

“Where’s your blender?” Arthur finally asked, and Merlin startled, almost spilling his tea. “Assuming, of course, that you care enough about your health to have one.”

“What?”

“A blender,” said Arthur. “You _do_ know what a blender is, don’t you? A kitchen appliance with a jug that has blades at the bottom of it. Used for chopping and liquidizing things?”

Merlin scowled at him, the words ‘Fuck off’ on the tip of his tongue. “In the cupboard,” he instead decided on, waving a hand in the direction of the corner cupboard. 

He pointedly averted his eyes as Arthur bent over this time and rummaged through the cupboard. He couldn’t help but think he surely deserved a knighthood or something for resisting looking at Arthur’s perfect arse, especially when it was presented to him like that. 

Arthur straightened up, blender retrieved, and then set about plugging it in on the counter. He grabbed the last two bananas in the bowl near the cooker top and started putting the ingredients inside. To make a smoothie, Merlin assumed. 

After pouring it out into two glasses Arthur downed his, pulling a face as he wiped his mouth. He pushed the other glass across the counter towards Merlin.

“No chance,” Merlin told him, grabbing his spoon and eating a mouthful of cereal. 

Arthur gave him a withering look. “Drink it. You need it, by the looks of you.”

Merlin felt his face flush and an awkward silence fell across the room. 

“I don’t need anything from you, thanks,” he snapped finally, grabbing his tea and retreating to his room. God, Arthur was an arse. Beautiful. But still an arse.

***

“You’re lifting it wrong,” came a voice from behind him as Merlin bench pressed a barbell with weights.

Oh, for crying out loud! Couldn’t he do _anything_ without Arthur coming along and sticking his nose in and trying to correct him in whatever it was Merlin was doing?

Merlin ignored him and carried on with his reps, counting them in his head. Sure he didn’t know all the proper names for the workouts that he did and most of his routines had been slapped together from various websites and YouTube videos, along with some of the strengthening exercises he’d been given after he’d saved Sophia years ago, but it seemed to be working for him. Merlin absolutely did not need any advice from a gym rat like Arthur. 

“Seriously,” said Arthur, standing behind him at the head of the bench, looking down. “You’ll do yourself an injury if you keep lifting that much weight with such a poor technique. And why don’t you have a spotter?”

“Never— had someone— available to,” Merlin gritted out, his muscles burning and arms trembling a little as he tried to push past his limit to get a new personal best with his rep count whilst he did his best to ignore Arthur’s strong toned arms in his peripheral vision.

Suddenly the weight became lighter and he found resistance that refused to budge, as he tried to pull the bar down.

He tilted his head back to glare at Arthur, who had taken the bar from his hands and put it back on the rack.

“What? You shouldn’t be bench pressing without a spotter. Especially the way you’re doing it. You’ll tear your rotator cuff with the way you’re going, and trust me, you _don’t_ want to do that. It’s difficult to recover from. Let me show you the _right way_ to bench press. You can thank me later.”

Sitting up to reach for his towel, Merlin wiped his face. “If I wanted your help. I’d ask for it,” he said sharply. 

“Merlin, lay back down.”

Merlin froze and raised a single eyebrow at him, his magic suddenly bursting into life and simmering under his skin. “Did you just tell me what to do?” he asked dangerously.

Arthur didn’t so much as flinch at his tone.

“I did. Now lay back down, so that you can learn how to bench press without giving yourself an injury.”

With a frown, Merlin found himself laying down, just as Arthur had commanded. He couldn’t understand it, but when Arthur gave him a small smile, Merlin found his stomach flipping and his face heating. 

“Okay,” began Arthur. “Place your hands on the bar, just slightly further apart than your shoulders.”

Putting his hands on the bar in what he thought was the correct position, Merlin gave Arthur a questioning look. 

“Not quite…” said Arthur.

Arthur put his hands on Merlin’s and moved them slightly further apart. Merlin felt his magic surge again, sparking within. He pushed it down. He couldn’t have anything untowards happen right now, not with Arthur bent over and so close to him. 

“If your hands are too far apart you put too much pressure on your shoulder joints... here...” Arthur placed his hands on Merlin’s shoulders and then he moved Merlin’s hands closer together, “and if you place them too close together, then you risk too much strain on your elbows, here.” 

He reached over Merlin again, his T-shirt brushing against Merlin’s face, to touch Merlin’s elbows. Merlin swallowed and begged his body to behave itself. 

“Now, show me again,” Arthur commanded.

Merlin put his hands back where Arthur had shown him.

“Good,” praised Arthur. “Now, as you lower the bar to your chest make sure that you’re breathing _in_.”

“Like this?” Merlin asked, demonstrating.

“That’s it. Now, grip as hard as you can, but don’t move your hands and breathe _out_ as you push up. Make sure you look at the ceiling, not the bar. Very good, much better. Now, let’s look at the rest of your positioning. Give me a few reps.”

Biting his lip, Merlin complied, using the techniques Arthur had talked him through. As Arthur walked around to look at him. Merlin shifted a little and hoped to God Arthur wouldn’t notice that he was already half-hard.

“Press your feet into the ground,” Arthur told him. “And make sure you’re arching your back. Tense your glutes.”

Merlin stared up at the ceiling thinking the unsexiest thoughts that he could summon and not at all thinking about how much he loved the domineering tone of Arthur’s voice.

”Make sure you’re keeping your elbows close as you lower the bar and press back up.” 

Merlin did another rep, trying his best to follow Arthur’s instruction, finding focusing on that the best way to keep himself from other rather distracting thoughts.

“That’s it. Head down against the bench. You keep raising it when you push up.” 

Oh thank God Arthur was looking at his head and not his crotch. 

“Your head and shoulders should be in contact with the bench the whole time,” Arthur continued. “Okay. I think that’s enough for today.” He watched as Merlin but the barbell back on the rack and then he held out his hand to pull Merlin up. He patted Merlin on the back. “Well done, Merlin. Good effort. It’s good to know you’re not a completely hopeless cause.” 

Merlin froze under his touch, his magic and Arthur’s praise going straight to his cock.

“Now, you can spot for me and learn from the master.”

Merlin swallowed hard. Oh fuck. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be here for a moment longer. He was normally fine at the gym. Sure there were plenty of fit guys there, most of them sculpted and drop dead gorgeous. But Arthur wasn’t there, and there wasn’t the possibility of having to touch him, either. 

“Um, actually I can’t. I—I forgot, I have a—a doctors appointment! In, um, a few minutes. Really, gotta go. Sorry!” Merlin blurted out.

And he dashed out of the gym before Arthur could raise any objection.

***

With a sigh, Merlin rested his head on his arm and pouted. He was in the drawing room at Gaius’s rather spacious apartment, seated in a comfortable, tall-backed armchair. Gaius came into the room with a tray and set it down on the table between them as he took a seat in the matching chair.

“I don’t get it, Gaius. Why did Prince Aulfric see the need to hire another bodyguard for the princess? I’ve been looking out for Sophia’s well-being for over eight years now! And nary an incident until now. Aren’t I enough? Plenty of other people in security have made errors and they never got as much flack for it, let alone having their job snatched from them.”

“No one is snatching your job away from you, Merlin,” Gaius chided as he poured tea from the teapot into two identical china cups. The tea service was so perfectly British that Merlin couldn’t help but think Gaius would be a bit horrified by the mishmash of cups and mugs he had accumulated in his kitchen cupboards over the years. Merlin hmmphed as Gaius continued, “Prince Aulfric is very concerned by the levels of hatred his daughter has been receiving on social media and in letters and phone calls made to here at the palace. I would think it would be all too understandable that he, and the palace, want to take all the precautions necessary to make sure that she is safe.”

“But _I_ can keep her safe, Gaius. You know that I can. You wouldn’t have recruited me if you hadn’t thought me capable! Plus there’s the… And I don’t think Arthur has that, does he? So what can he bring to Sophia’s security that I can’t? Besides being a know-it-all prat.”

“Now, now, Merlin. Don’t let your opinions about Arthur play into the equation. I thought you were a professional. I’m not sure that you understand the severity of the situation. The princess has had some disturbing threats against her. It’s not a slight against you. You know what I think? I think that you’re so offended at the idea of having an extra pair of eyes, that you refuse to acknowledge how useful that will be for you, and you refuse to acknowledge that Arthur is a decent man.”

“I’m not refusing to—”

Gaius dismissed his protests with a wave of his hand and a sharply raised eyebrow before continuing. 

“Given the level of threats against the princess, we wanted her to have additional protection as soon as possible. So we needed someone who would be able to do the job at rather short notice. Arthur has experience as a bodyguard. He is dedicated, hard-working, a good-marksman, and known to Prince Aulfric through his father, Uther. Uther and Prince Aulfric went to school together. And since Prince Aulfric knows Arthur, he knows that he can trust his precious girl with him.” 

Gaius poured the milk and added two spoonfuls of sugar to one cup before stirring it and passing it to Merlin. 

“But he can trust her with me!” protested Merlin, accepting the cup. 

“Of course he can, my boy. You wouldn’t be here if he couldn’t. Have you even thought about how this whole arrangement will benefit you?” 

Merlin narrowed his eyes. What kind of benefit could there be to having a pompous arse like Arthur around? “Explain,” He said slowly, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Gaius smiled knowingly at him, an expression that Merlin hated because he knew that whatever Gaius was going to say was going to be a truth that he wouldn’t like. “When was the last time you took a holiday?” he asked.

Merlin faltered. Shit. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting Gaius to say. But what a direct hit to the gut it was. He thought back. His last holiday had to have been over seven years ago now. Will had dragged him away for a weekend in Greece as an attempt to rekindle their relationship. That was shortly before they’d lost what little spark they had left completely and decided it would be better for them to just be friends. Merlin hadn’t wanted or felt the need to go on holiday after that; Will had had to beg him to go in the first place. That had probably been a sign right there that they were never going to work out. He had finally found a purpose for his life here and he’d been thankful for a way to use his magic in a way that was truly useful. And Merlin was slowly starting to think that maybe he just wasn’t relationship material.

“I don’t need a holiday,” he retorted.

“I think that you do, Merlin. You work around the clock, for whatever hours are necessary. And yes, you get some time off when we can send someone to cover for you for a night. But that’s not a real break. You deserve to be able to take some time away for yourself. And you deserve to have regular nights off. Your salary won’t be altered, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I’m not,” replied Merlin. “You know I’m not. I don’t mind not having evenings off. I’m happy to watch out for Princess Sophia and keep her safe.”

“I know that, Merlin. But I can’t help but think that you’re too attached to your work and have been for far too long. You’ll understand what I mean, now that you will have the time to relax and enjoy yourself. Perhaps you can even find yourself a partner and settle down. I’d like to see that.” He patted the back of Merlin’s hand kindly. “Don’t leave it too late and end up on your own like me, hmm? Now, let me see about some biscuits to go with our tea.”

Merlin stared contemplatively into the empty fireplace as Gaius rose to go in search of biscuits. He had to concede that Gaius had a bit of a point. It would be nice to be able to do things like have regular days off, so that he could have more of a social life again. Maybe he should try the whole relationship thing again. He was still young enough to find someone and make a life with them. He would just have to make the best of it, he supposed. Knowing Prince Aulfric, he definitely wouldn’t be budging about having Arthur as part of Sophia’s detail for the time being. If only Arthur wasn’t such an arse, and gorgeous along with it.

***

Merlin stood beside Arthur, arms folded behind his back, watching from a distance as Sophia and Aulfric placed a wreath down at the base of the war memorial. The sun was hot on their backs, but considering it was spring, it was a pleasant contrast to the cool breezes that swept through the area and often left you cold if you happened to be in the shade. 

Spring was one of Merlin’s favourite seasons. The whole world was waking up from it’s winter slumber. Just feeling the way the balance was shifting around him helped to buoy his spirits. And it wasn’t just nature, that was awakening, but magic, too. It had been lying dormant for months, but now it was starting to emerge, vibrant, all around him. Every tree, every bush, every blade of grass was humming to him. Merlin smiled and bounced on his heels, in contrast to the solemnity of the situation. He even felt cheerful enough to make yet another attempt to connect with Arthur again. 

“So, what about you? Now that you’ve met most of Sophia’s family—” Merlin whispered as he leaned closer to Arthur. “Do you have any brothers, sisters? Mum and Dad? A significant other?” 

Arthur turned his head for a moment to scowl at him before returning to surveying the area, hyper-alert to everything around him. “We’re working, Merlin. Not socialising.” 

“But you don’t talk outside of work, either. It’s like you’re this… international man of mystery or something.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said with a low growl that _did things_ to Merlin. 

“Okay, all right,” he said, still cheery. “What do you think about Gwen, then? She’s so nice, isn’t she? She’s fitting in quite smoothly, too. And she and Sophia adore each other!”

Arthur side-eyed him. “That’s not any of my business,” he said shortly. “My business is keeping the princess safe, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just _shut up_ and let me do my job.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows and held his hands up in mock-surrender. “Touchy.”

He returned to enjoying the fresh spring morning. He wasn’t worried about anything going wrong. Not today. He would be able to feel it in his bones on a day like today if someone was plotting something. He’d get a certain kind of _feeling_. Merlin couldn’t really describe exactly what that feeling was. Perhaps some kind of... intuition? But it had never steered him wrong yet. Today, all would be fine. He was sure of it. 

Besides, who would be so awful as to attack the royal family at a service for soldiers killed in the line of duty? Well, he pondered. Potentially, quite a few people. But Merlin was confident they’d taken all the appropriate precautions in such a carefully controlled environment. He felt a pang of guilt for feeling so happy on a day like today, when they were supposed to be remembering and honouring the dead. He tried to shake off the urge to charge around yelling like a young child and give the ceremony the respect that it deserved, focusing on the vicar giving a sermon to the group of officials around the memorial. 

But it wasn’t long before Merlin’s thoughts wandered off yet again. He couldn’t help it, it seemed. He wondered idly why Arthur refused to talk about anything personal. He had refused to talk about much of anything at all, really. It had been two weeks since Arthur had started working alongside him and Merlin was no closer to knowing the man than he had been when Arthur moved in. He had tried to get to know Arthur, and he’d tried to be kind and helpful and welcoming, even though the sting of Aulfric hiring Arthur in the first place still had not lessened. But he hadn’t really gotten a whole lot to show for his efforts—just a bunch of surly retorts and shut downs, and a few times where Arthur had been downright rude to him. 

If Arthur wasn’t willing to even be friendly, how could they expect to get on in the long run? Which brought him full circle to wondering why Prince Aulfric had hired him on in the first place. It wasn’t as though Arthur had done anything that Merlin couldn’t have done for Sophia. And he had the added bonus of magic, unlike Arthur. He had to remind himself at that point that although Gaius was aware that Merlin possessed magic (and therefore had an edge over most people) Prince Aulfric did not. And Merlin sure as hell wasn’t going to go ahead and blurt it out to the prince. Talking about magic was a definite way to make people think that he was crazy. And it would be a sure-fire way to get himself fired. Besides, Gaius had forbidden it. He was strongly of the belief that the fewer people who knew about the existence of magic in the world, the better. 

The only real benefit Merlin could see to his current situation was that, as Gaius had pointed out, he suddenly found himself with actual, proper, real days off. Where he could plan to do normal, regular, everyday things without expecting to be pulled away at a moment’s notice. Something that he hadn’t realised quite how badly he’d needed.

It was still strange and disconcerting though, and Merlin wasn’t sure exactly what to do with an entire day off after being on duty in some kind of capacity almost every day for the past eight years. He was still debating whether he ought to take up some kind of hobby to fill the time. 

He was brought back to reality with a bump. Or rather a sharp nudge to the ribs, courtesy of Arthur, whereupon Merlin realised that the ceremony was over and Sophia was hailing them both.

She beamed at them as they fell in step with her behind Prince Aulfric. 

“I am so lucky to have such lovely bodyguards to look out for me,” she said, giving Arthur a nod as he opened the car door for her.

Merlin lurked behind them, keeping an eye on the small crowd nearby for any potential trouble. At the back of his mind, he had a niggling sense of worry. Not about the crowd, of course, he was sure he’d sense if something was wrong there. But about himself. Had he really spaced out like that in the middle of such an important occasion, where the princess depended on his vigilance for her safety? For the first time since Arthur’s arrival, Merlin felt self-doubt creep in. Maybe Aulfric had been right to hire Arthur after all.

***

Bad nineties music thumped through the club, with the bass so high it was reverberating through Merlin’s body. 

This place was cheesy, and ridiculous, but Merlin hadn’t wanted to go back to his usual club after the incident with Sophia, so instead he was stuck with The Gedref as one of the few LGBT clubs in town. 

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what to do with his spare time since he’d started mulling it over. He hadn’t realised it before, back when he had been working all the time, but in actuality, when you took his work away, Merlin didn’t really have a whole lot else going on in his life. 

He only had a few close friends, and he hadn’t been the best at keeping touch with them. Most of them lived too far away for him to see them in the space of a day, and they were busy with their own lives. Merlin had also been hit by the startling realisation that he hadn’t been able to hold down a proper long-term relationship since Will! 

In recent years, each time he’d met someone he thought he might be able to see himself dating, he had managed to fuck things up rather spectacularly one way or the other. None of them had been able to understand why he was so dedicated to his job—to the point that he was rarely even available to go out on dates—and so things just fizzled out. The only person he’d managed to see for more than a few months was Gilli, who had been far too patient with him and his crazy schedule. In the end, Merlin realised he’d just been seeing Gilli as a way to have sex, and that hadn’t been fair to Gilli. Either way, things just never seemed to really work. 

Up until now, Merlin had always blamed his job for it. But now he had more time and actual days off, he had decided to find out once and for all if that was really the case. Because what if it was just him? Maybe there was just something inherently wrong with _him_ that caused him to scupper all of his relationships. 

But in order to be in a relationship, you kind of had to meet somebody. Hence his presence at The Gedref.

Sipping his pint, Merlin leant back against the bar checking out the dancefloor. It was a Saturday night, so it was actually busy for once, despite the club DJ’s notoriously shit taste in music. Merlin needed to do _something_ to get himself back in the game, and get his thoughts off his rather attractive but stuck-up prat of a co-worker. 

Then Merlin spotted him: a man dancing a with a few others—his mates? But he wasn’t dancing _with_ someone, which was the important thing. Merlin carried on watching him as he finished his beer, using the time to size up his chances. He knew he was all right looking, and he sort of—okay, almost—tries to keep in shape. And it’s not like he hasn’t made any effort. He’s wearing his best shirt and nicest jacket, along with his tightest skinny jeans. And even a very tiny amount of eyeliner, just to make his eyes pop a bit. Most of the guys Merlin’s pulled in the past have liked that. 

Merlin found himself smiling to himself when he saw the man smile. He was about average height, with dark hair and a soft face, decent, if plain dress-sense. Attractive. Merlin wondered how old he was. He was young, but certainly not a student, if his group of friends were any indication. One of the girls he was with leaned close to him and whispered something into his ear with a grin, and then she looked up and directly at Merlin, giving him a wink. 

He’d been sussed out. 

The man looked over at him and smiled, lighting up his whole face. He said something back to the girl and then walked over with a casual confidence, although his body belied his inner nervousness, with the way he kept rubbing his head and looking away, his face flustered. 

“Hey,” he said, shoving one hand in a pocket and extending the other. “I’m, uh, Daegal.”

Merlin nodded his head. “Merlin,” he replied.

Daegal looked at him with surprise. “Really?” He leaned back a little as he looked Merlin up and down critically. “Hmm, no, you know what? It suits you. Now that I know your name, can I buy you another drink, Merlin?”

His voice was gentle, even over the noise of the club, and there was a lilt of an accent there.

“Uh, sure,” Merlin said with a nervous smile.

Once they’d each got a pint, they ended up standing at a tall table together to the side of the dance floor, talk-shouting over the music as they tried to get to know each other. 

Daegal, as it turned out, actually _was_ a student. But he was in the final throes of finishing his Master’s in International Politics and considering whether or not to carry on and get his PhD. So a bit on the young side, Merlin supposed. But not too bad, better than pulling an undergrad, that’s for sure. That was a risk going out clubbing in a university hotspot, though at thirty-two, going on thirty-three, it was a bit of a hazard going out to nightclubs to meet new guys anywhere. 

Merlin sighed into his pint. He was getting too old for this. He was going to die alone in his palace apartment with nothing to show for it but a royal princess who was still alive and a bookshelf of mostly un-read books. If Will were still here, he’d have given a speech at Merlin’s funeral saying he’d wasted his life. He always was a republican.

“Everything okay?” asked Daegal, with the kind of earnest concern only a mid-twenty-something year old could have.

“Fine,” said Merlin, shrugging off his neuroses. He downed the rest of his pint in one. “Want to go dance?”

Before he knew it, Merlin was lost in the beat of the cheesy pop music, swaying with Daegal as they started to get closer and closer. A few songs in, Daegal had seemingly lost his coyness, and the alcohol lead Merlin to relax into him, their hips grinding and his hands wrapped around Daegal’s waist. He smiled down at him, looking into his deep, dark eyes and felt contentment. 

This was good. 

Daegal’s hand wandered underneath his shirt and Merlin leaned down towards him, making his intentions clear. Merlin’s eyes slowly closed in anticipation of a kiss, which surprised him much sooner than he’d expected as Daegal moved quicker and kissed him first. There was a disastrous clash of teeth, and their lips seemed set on working against each other, until they pulled back and went in again, this time with a little less enthusiasm and surprise than they had at first.

This time they fit, and Daegal returned to kissing, hard and fast, backing them all away across the dance floor and towards a wall. When they broke for breath, Daegal grinned at him, their foreheads touching.

“God, you’re hot. I saw you straight away when you came in. But I didn’t think I’d have a chance given how fit you are, especially compared to me,” he said eagerly.

“Hey,” admonished Merlin. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

He reeled Daegal in for another kiss, not wanting to stop; he hadn’t kissed like this in so long. “You sell yourself too short,” he said between kisses.

Then, mid-kiss, Merlin froze suddenly as his magic fizzled and hissed, upset about _something_. It tugged at him, warm and bubbling, and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat as looked up and found Arthur staring at him. His stomach lurched, and he rubbed at the physical ache in his chest, wondering if he might be sick from the mix of magic, alcohol, and the feeling it gave him having Arthur look at him that way. 

He felt caught out somehow, and as though Arthur was judging him. It almost looked as though he were disgusted. And then a surge of anger flooded through him. Arthur had no right to look at him like that. Merlin could do whatever the fuck he wanted, kiss whoever the fuck he wanted. He didn’t need anyone’s permission, least of all Arthur’s. And if he had a problem with the fact that Merlin was kissing a guy, well then, Arthur was in the wrong job, because if the way Sophia and Gwen were getting on was any indication, he was going to be spending a large amount of time in gay clubs going forward.

“Are you all right?” came Daegal’s voice, pulling Merlin back to the present.

Merlin smiled weakly at him, rubbing one last time at the phantom chest pain before dropping his hand to his side. “Yeah, fine. Sorry. I thought I saw someone. Come on, let’s dance,” he said, tugging Daegal out onto the dance floor again.

Their bodies swayed in time with the music as the DJ kicked it up another beat and people swarmed around them, all lost to the rhythm of the night. Merlin looped his hands around Daegal’s waist, their faces close and noses rubbing again. Merlin’s hands teased where Daegal’s shirt met his jeans and Daegal’s lips met his as they kissed again; soft, warm, wet and deep, until Merlin lost track of time altogether. 

His magic was insistent though—an ever present buzzing at the back of his head, as though he were being watched by a thousand eyes. He pulled away from their kiss, and as quickly as he caught Arthur’s piercing glare, his head was turned away from them, looking back over towards the bar.

“Drink?” Merlin asked Daegal, determined to approach Arthur and have this out. 

“Sure! Can you get me another beer?” Daegal replied.

By the time Merlin had pushed his way through the throngs of people towards the bar, however, Arthur had disappeared and his magic had calmed. Annoyed, Merlin made a quick circuit of the club, but he found no sign of Arthur or Sophia, whom he assumed must have been in the club somewhere. Not that he’d seen her. 

He grabbed a couple of shots along with the beers and shared them with Daegal, before they exchanged numbers and decided to go their separate ways for the night. Merlin’s mood had been soured by Arthur’s presence and he no longer felt like taking Daegal home with him. It had been a silly idea anyway, pulling a stranger at a club. Merlin knew that it rarely lead to a long term relationship that would last. It was yet another way to sabotage his efforts to actually find someone. He’d suggest a date with Daegal later on his next day off, to make up for not going any further tonight. He knew that Daegal had been eager to and he’d been visibly disappointed when Merlin suggested they go to their respective homes. But it was for the best. 

Once outside the club in the cool, crisp air, he buried his face in his hands. What _was_ he doing with his life?

***

The next morning, Merlin woke with a headache. He crawled out of his bed, pulling on pyjama bottoms before heading to the kitchen for water and paracetamol. When he’d got home last night, Arthur hadn’t been back yet. He must have still been out with Sophia. And Merlin had made the mistake of thinking that the solution to all of his problems were at the bottom of a bottle. Now he was paying the price. 

He staggered into the kitchen and with all the speed of a snail he reached for a glass, grunting as the sound of the water running pierced through his skull when he turned on the tap. Water successfully transferred to glass, he slowly sipped on it and searched through a nearby cupboard for a pack of pills he had stashed there before popping out two and taking them with another gulp of cool water. He just needed something to take the edge off the pain in his head before his magic felt better and started to take care of the rest of his hangover. 

His stomach lurched uneasily once he’d finished the glass, the water heavy and sloshing in his belly, and there was an urgent pressure in his bladder. Bathroom. Pee, shower, and then brush his teeth. That was his plan, and he hoped to God he wouldn’t throw up at any point in between. 

As he walked down the corridor—slowly, everything had to be done slowly—he noticed that the door to his office, which was now Arthur’s bedroom, was closed. Arthur must be back, then, he assumed. He hastened past the door, not wanting to think about the disgusted look on Arthur’s face that had haunted his dreams the night before.

Once he’d relieved himself, Merlin turned on the hot water for the shower and whilst he waited for the water to heat—courtesy of old plumbing and a poor boiler in the historic building—he decided to brush his teeth. The inside of his mouth was unpleasantly fuzzy and gross. Once he had brushed, he stepped under the stream of hot water and let it wash away the previous night’s funk. He sighed with relief as his body started to relax and the painkillers kicked in, his headache lessening. 

He didn’t want to, but his brain kept replaying the events from the night before. The way his magic had gone haywire when he’d spotted Arthur. It had almost been as though it was tugging Merlin bodily towards him. Why was that? Had his magic wanted to have it out with Arthur as badly as he had when he’d seen Arthur’s reaction to him? It hadn’t felt like that. But Merlin was at a loss to explain it otherwise. He had a sinking feeling that Arthur might not approve of a man being gay. 

Glumly, Merlin showered. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t allowed a little corner of his brain wonder ‘what if…’ Arthur was so god-like and golden, and there was something about him that made Merlin want to be friends with him—not just to allow them to work together to the best of their abilities, but because he’d felt like Arthur was someone who would be worth knowing. But then he remembered just how much of a standoff-ish prat Arthur was, and the way that he would always brush Merlin off if he suggested just chilling out or hanging out together. 

Getting out of the shower, Merlin towelled himself dry and headed back towards the kitchen, his stomach growling fiercely for food now that his nausea had eased. He put bread in the toaster and then almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the sound of glass shattering on the floor behind him. 

“Arthur?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. Arthur was on all fours, picking up pieces of the broken glass, and Merlin made to go and help him.

“Stay back, you idiot!” Arthur snapped at him.

Merlin shrunk back against the sideboard at his aggressive tone of voice. 

“Treading over a kitchen floor covered in broken glass in bare feet… fool,” Arthur muttered under his breath. “Dustpan and brush?” he asked out loud to Merlin.

“Um, tall cupboard to your left,” said Merlin, wrapping his arms around himself as he shivered. He wished he’d pulled on some clothes rather than just a towel as a few stray droplets of water from his damp hair slowly trickled down his spine. He felt vulnerable and exposed as he stood there helplessly, watching Arthur clear up the glass around his feet.

When he was finally finished, Arthur stood up and wrapped the broken shards in a sheet of newspaper. 

“There we are,” he said cuttingly. “Next time, Merlin, why don’t you try and get _dressed_ before making breakfast?”

Then he turned and walked out of the room.

“Hey! I can do what I like. This is my— Arthur…” Merlin called after him in frustration. 

Arthur was always doing that. Always having minimal conversation with Merlin, most of it acerbic or biting, and leaving as quickly as he’d arrived. It was like he was going through some kind of elaborate maneuvers to ignore Merlin’s presence as much as possible, and to minimize it when Merlin was unignorable. It was frustrating and confusing. Merlin hadn’t done anything wrong. Yes, he’d been a bit cold towards Arthur at the beginning, but he’d been right to, as since then Arthur had proven himself to be a total and utter prat. But Merlin had kept most of those thoughts to himself in an effort to be diplomatic, just as years inside the royal household had taught him.

If Arthur didn’t like him, Merlin would rather he just come right out and say it, rather than beating around the bush.

***

A grandfather clock ticked in the corner and there was the normal bustle of noise as people made their way up and down the corridor outside. Sitting inside the room, facing each other across the table, were Merlin and Arthur. Merlin sized Arthur up, raising an eyebrow a little as they stared at one another. It had not been a productive morning at all. They had been trying to discuss the preliminary plans for the Pride parade that Sophia was to attend in less than two months, and they hadn’t agreed on anything so far. 

Arthur had wanted Sophia to have as little participation in the parade as possible, and Merlin, well, Merlin wanted her to have the best experience possible. She deserved it. She was always attending events at everyone else’s whims and demands. This was something she had chosen for herself. Okay, so her role in the event had escalated a bit from being a spectator to being a part of the parade, but it was still something Sophia truly wanted to do for herself and not out of any royal obligation. She wasn’t attending as Princess Sophia of Kent, but as Sophia Windsor, an English university student who was exploring who she was and what that meant for her and her life. And Merlin was eager for her to have as full an experience of Pride as possible.

“Haven’t you ever attended Pride before, Arthur? Walking amongst other people and seeing everyone so happy, watching all the floats go by and getting drunk and partying on the streets… Celebrating being who you are…”

“Can’t say I have,” Arthur replied stiffly.

“You’ve never attended Pride?” said Merlin, curiously. He had wondered before if Arthur understood just what he was asking with his plan to make sure that Sophia was whisked through the whole experience, giving a quick public appearance before they rushed her off home again, and what Sophia would be missing out on if she wasn’t allowed to participate properly with her friends. Now he knew. Arthur had no clue what he was talking about.

“No, I just said that I haven’t,” Arthur said. “But I don’t see what that has to do with anything. The basic protocols are the same, regardless. If we are to keep a client of the princess’s standing safe, then we should be avoiding any open spaces. And we should avoid having her interact with anyone other than pre-approved friends and other important guests that might be attending. We certainly shouldn’t be letting her walk amongst the crowds now that the entire world knows that she’s going to be there.”

Merlin sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. “You just described most of what makes Pride fun,” he complained. “Sophia just wants a day where she can be normal, where she can be herself and _not_ a royal princess.”

“She can want that all she wants. But fact of the matter is that Princess Sophia is royalty, and in light of the current environment regarding her sexual preferences, we can’t take that chance. She’s lucky that her father is going to allow her to go at all. And I’ll be damned if anything happens to her on my watch because she wanted a bit of fun!” 

By the time he’d finished talking, Arthur was almost shouting and had stood up from his seat to make his point, pounding a fist on the table.

“Oh,” retorted Merlin, also raising his voice. “Don’t give me that! Don’t act like I don’t care about what happens to Sophia. I’ve been looking after her for years, and I would sooner die myself than see her hurt in any way, shape or form! But she’s been mollycoddled her whole life, and she just wants one moment for herself. And personally, I don’t think that’s too much to ask. You don’t understand what it’s like to be a royal. What it’s like to live with that soul-crushing realisation that your whole life has been planned out for you from before you were even conceived, and that any deviation from what is expected will get you judged and overruled so that images can be preserved! You have no clue what Sophia goes through, and if you have so little faith in your ability to keep her safe whilst she actually enjoys her life, then you should quit now!”

“Oh, yeah?” Arthur yelled back, his face a deep red. “Maybe I will. Because I sure didn’t sign up to this job just to have my judgment and informed experience questioned like this!”

“Informed experience? I’ve been Sophia’s bodyguard for much longer than you. You barely even know her, and if you did, you’d know she’d rather not go to Pride at all than go with all your silly restrictions and restraints. Because with the way you’d run Pride, there wouldn’t be any point going to it! Pride is a celebration of life and shared experiences, not a wake! You need to pull that stick out of your arse and learn how to do a little thing called ‘having fun’.”

Arthur face turned pale, and this time he spoke quietly. 

“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

And he got up and marched out of the room, slamming the door hard behind him. 

“Oh, shit,” said Merlin, as it suddenly dawned on him that he was going to have to confess his fight with Arthur to Gaius, along with the fact that he’d made Arthur quit. 

He opened the door, trying to catch him before it was too late. “Arthur!” he called. But there was no sign of him. 

***

Gaius shook his head and placed the freshly washed plate in the drying rack before dipping his hand back into the sink.

“Honestly, Merlin. What am I going to do with you?” he said, more to himself than to Merlin. 

Merlin sat at the small table in the kitchen where they’d been having dinner and hung his head. 

“Sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologise to, Merlin.”

Gaius let the sentence hang there in the air between them, heavy with unsaid words. Gaius sure had a way of making him feel bad without even saying much of anything at all, Merlin reflected. He knew that it had been silly for him and Arthur to argue like that; they were adults and should have talked it out rationally and compromised to come up with a plan, or, failing that, they should have both made a proposal to Gaius and allowed him to decide the best course of action for Sophia’s protection. But no, they’d had to resort to bickering. Merlin was only surprised that it hadn’t ended up dissolving into childish name-calling. Or even physical fighting. Although, Merlin couldn’t exactly pretend he didn’t enjoy the idea of getting that close to Arthur.

He knows what he ought to do. He ought to apologise. But he’s no idea how to go about doing it. After the fight, he had tried to find Arthur, his annoyance already replaced with regret. But he hadn’t been able to find him anywhere. He had searched the building and the surrounding area to no avail. He’d gone to the areas where he and Arthur tended to go running. He’d even toyed with the idea of checking in the nearby town. Or the woods, or the local pub. But his common sense won out. He just didn’t know Arthur well enough to know where he’d go, and perhaps he’d just… left. But no. The idea of that was just unbearable. He might not know Arthur well, but he knew enough to know that Arthur was not a quitter.

Finally, Merlin had returned to their shared apartment, thinking perhaps Arthur hadn’t left at all and was just laughing up his sleeve at the idea of Merlin anxiously searching for him. Arthur hadn’t been there. Not that he’d _really_ expected him to be. But at least his stuff had still been there in his room, untouched. 

“I don’t know where to find him,” Merlin admitted to Gaius. “I did look. You know Arthur better than me. He said he didn’t have to stand here and take this and then he walked out. Does that mean that he quits? If he didn’t, then why hasn’t he shown up yet?”

Gaius came over with a teacup and saucer and placed it on the table before Merlin.

“It sounds to me as though it was just an argument that got out of hand. Arthur is not the kind of person to just up and quit when he’s committed himself to a job. And seeing as Arthur hasn’t seen fit to tender his resignation, I would count on him returning to attend to his duties as usual tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” said Merlin quietly, staring into his tea.

“I feel quite certain of it. But perhaps you’ll decide to be more mature about how you both handle your disagreements in the future. Arthur works the way that he does for his own reasons. Neither of you have better methods than the other as far as I am concerned. Now, drink up and don’t you worry, things will get better.”

Scowling at Gaius, Merlin took a sip of his tea. “I’m not worried.”

Gaius just arched a sceptical eyebrow.

***

Sighing, Merlin locked the door behind him and threw his keys down on the sideboard in the hallway. Running a hand through his hair, he walked slowly into the apartment. What a shit day. It had all been fine before the fight, but that had ruined everything. What had he been thinking? Why had he let himself be antagonised by Arthur? It was infuriating, and so was Arthur. 

As he glanced down the hallway that lead to the bathroom and bedrooms, Merlin faltered mid-step. There was a light clearly visible from beneath Arthur’s bedroom door. He was home. A panic took ahold of him. What should he do? Should he knock on the door and apologise now? Or should he ignore it and put off dealing with it until tomorrow? The latter was the most appealing option by far. Arthur didn’t have to know that Merlin knew that he was back, and wasn’t Gaius just telling him everything would look better in the morning? 

Decision made, Merlin slipped off his shoes, hung up his jacket and tip-toed his way down the hallway on the way to his room. He was so intently focused on the floor and being as quiet as possible himself that he didn’t notice the door ahead of him opening, and walked straight into Arthur’s chest. He jumped, startled by the sudden feel of warm skin against his own, and stumbled backwards onto his backside. Arthur stared down at him, his eyebrows disappearing under his hairline.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Merlin said, slightly breathless with shock.

“Says the man, sneaking through his own home in the dead of night,” Arthur deadpanned.

Merlin scowled at him. “Shut up,” he said, before remembering belatedly that he was _supposed_ to be apologising, not antagonising Arthur. Moments ago he’d been relieved to see that Arthur hadn’t just upped and left, and now here he was, just digging that hole deeper and deeper.

“You came back,” he blurted out.

“I never left, Merlin,” Arthur told him, passing him to go to the kitchen. Merlin couldn’t help staring. No man on Earth had the right to look that good in a pair of boxer shorts. And Merlin had looked at a lot of men in boxer shorts. With Herculean effort, Merlin tore his eyes away from Arthur’s perfect arse and hauled himself to his feet to follow him. 

“But you said…” he said, swallowing and finding that he had to hurriedly divert his eyes as Arthur, who had grabbed a glass from the cupboard, turned around and faced him. His eyes skimmed Arthur’s crotch before he focused his gaze firmly on Arthur’s face and only his face.

"I said I didn’t have to stand around and listen to this.” Arthur walked over to the sink and turned on the tap. ”And I didn’t. I didn’t say that I was going to leave. Were you worried I was gone?”

“What? No. No, of course not,” said Merlin, shaking his head and hurriedly tucking his hands into his pockets. Arthur shut off the tap and faced Merlin again, tipping his head inquisitively.

“Then why weren’t you here when I got back? Why have you only just got back now? I’d think you’d gone out on the pull, but you’re hardly dressed for it…”

Merlin glanced down at his jeans, old and comfortable with a tear in the knee and frayed around the hems, and his favourite band shirt from uni, worn and faded with age. 

“I’ve only gone out clubbing one time since you started here!” he protested. He had lost all desire to try and find someone after witnessing that strange look on Arthur’s face when he’d seen Merlin with Daegal. Daegal had been eager for another date, but Merlin had blown him off and said his life was too busy for something serious right now, which was true in some ways, but not in others. He had more time to himself than he’d ever had before in this job since Arthur had arrived, but romantically, things had become more confusing than ever. He found himself reluctant to go out again or try and date whilst Arthur was still in his life, even though he was aware that he was letting his chance for a relationship slip through his fingers. It just felt wrong somehow. 

Stubbing at the floor with his toe, Merlin sighed. “So you weren’t thinking of leaving, then?” he asked, as casually as he could.

“Leave? Nah, it’ll take a lot more than a disagreement with a skinny, scruffy, dark-haired—”

“Hey!” Merlin looked over at Arthur in the darkened room, mock glaring at him, before speaking seriously for a moment. “So, no hard feelings, then?”

“No,” said Arthur. “We were both just trying to do our jobs, that’s all. Differences of opinions happen.”

“I’m sorry things got so out of hand.”

“So am I,” agreed Arthur.

“Maybe we can work out a compromise and meet in the middle?”

“Sure. In the morning, though. I’m not discussing work, like this, in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” said Merlin, letting Arthur pass with his glass of water. “Good night!”

“Night, Merlin.”

***

The morning after their argument, Merlin and Arthur found themselves planning for a different engagement. Sophia had been invited on a closed visit to a dockyard at the end of the week, which took the heat off of their debates over Pride and let them focus their efforts on a smooth and safe royal visit. Much as Merlin hated to admit it, he found that Arthur was thorough and efficient with the use of the resources they had at hand, and his planning was meticulous. Of course, that was all well and good when you could control all the variables; when you were at a busy public event, it was a different kettle of fish altogether. But Merlin put aside those arguments for now, and they both went to bed the night before the visit happy with their planning.

The dock was quiet the next day, all the workers ready and waiting patiently for Sophia’s visit. She was visiting the shipyard to christen a new ship, the first ship that had been built there in over twenty years. 

Merlin nodded at Arthur, who was waiting patiently at the door of the car, and Arthur acknowledged him with a returning nod as he opened the door for the princess. A group of photographers swarmed forward to take pictures, yelling out to her “Sophia, Sophia!” and “Your Highness!” as Sophia paused to greet them from inside the car before Arthur waved them off. He helped Sophia out of the car by offering her his hand—always one to exercise politeness to an extreme, even though Sophia abhorred being treated like she was helpless. She already had so little control of her life. 

“Tell him to stop, Merlin!” she had complained to him the previous morning, when the two of them had taken a morning stroll. 

“I’ve tried, Your Highness, I promise. But Arthur just won’t listen to me—he just lectures _me_ in decorum and manners of the upper classes, as though I haven’t been looking after you perfectly adequately for years now!”

“Well…” Sophia said, hanging on his arm and grinning up at him. “You are still a bit rough around the edges sometimes, Merlin.”

“Hey!” he protested.

“And it’s obvious you haven’t been raised around nobility like Arthur has,” she continued. She stopped for a moment to pick a beautiful, pale yellow bloom. She sniffed it deeply and smiled. “Gwen loves yellow roses.”

“Arthur was raised around nobility?” Merlin had asked with surprise. He’d known Arthur was a posh git—that had been immediately obvious. But raised around nobility? 

“Yes! Gosh, you are so very oblivious, you poor man,” Sophia giggled, patting his arm fondly.

“No, I’m not! Well, at least, not when it counts, I hope,” Merlin had replied, suddenly remembering how he’d had no clue Gilli had fancied him at first. Gwaine had had to spell it out for him before he finally got it. “And if I am oblivious, enlighten me. Tell me what makes it obvious that Arthur is noble. Because as far as I can tell, all he is is a noble ars— Oof!”

Sophia elbowed Merlin in the side and then carried on as though she hadn’t. 

“Well, for starters, he observes all his court manners. Without being told, including all the ones that you don’t.”

“I only ignore the ones that are stupid and outdated,” Merlin had interjected, rubbing his ribs.

“He stops and bows when he meets a lord or lady—you never have, much to Lord deBois’ and Geoffrey of Monmouth’s disdain. He’s courteous and polite. Well-spoken,” Sophia continued, ignoring him. “He’s obviously well-educated, too. My father knows his father, and I remember his name being mentioned on occasion, though I don’t believe we ever met. He went to Eton.”

Merlin choked on his tongue. “Eton!? Fucking hell.”

“Language, Merlin. See? This is what I mean, I love you, you know that. But you can try all you like; you’ll never have that same grounding that Arthur has. Arthur, I’m sure, would never swear in the presence of royalty—” Merlin made to interrupt her. “—but that’s part of what I love about you.”

“Well, for someone who’s supposedly so well-mannered and polite, he sure is blunt and rude with me,” Merlin complained.

“You need it,” said Sophia. “Things have been too staid and boring for you for too long now. You need someone around who shakes you up.”

“I do not—”

Sophia had merely raised an eyebrow at him and that had been enough to shut Merlin up. They continued the rest of their walk talking about Gwen, university and Sophia’s plans for the future outside of her royal duties.

But Sophia’s observations had stuck with him, and he couldn’t help smiling to himself everytime Arthur helped her out of the car, or opened the door for her, or any other number of small things that Arthur insisted were a sign of good manners. Whenever he tried to raise the issue, Arthur would override him, telling him that he at least knew how to be a gentleman. Still, Merlin had to admit—albeit reluctantly—that the man was good at his job. 

Arthur escorted Sophia into the warehouse, whilst Merlin did a circuit of the exterior of the building. They had already searched the place thoroughly beforehand, and since then the only people who could access the site were those who were specifically authorised to be there. But Merlin still had an uneasy feeling about the place. They had received a new threat against Sophia just that morning, and Aulfric had called them both into his office, wanting to cancel the visit. But Merlin and Arthur had both insisted that they could keep Sophia safe. This trip was important to the people who were involved in the UK shipbuilding industry and who would they be able to get to replace Sophia at such short notice? 

Plus, if they couldn’t protect the princess here, in a tightly controlled environment, then what hope would they have at Pride? Sophia would have to kiss her dream goodbye, and Merlin would lose his job for sure. So Merlin thought it was only reasonable that he was feeling nervous about today. Arthur didn’t appear to be, though. He’d been as cocksure and confident as always.

His perimeter check clear, Merlin slipped inside to join Arthur. In the warehouse, Sophia was doing her royal duty and speaking attentively to a worker who was showing her the tools he used to build the ship. As he gave a demonstration and the tool buzzed to life, Merlin could see Arthur visibly tense up across the room. Merlin rolled his eyes, but maneuvered himself around until the workers were between him and Arthur, to make sure they had the whole warehouse within their view. 

Princess Sophia was taken over to a sheet of steel and given the tool to fasten the first bolt of what would become the next big ship to be built here. The carefully selected media surged forward, and Sophia posed like a model with the tool for a few moments while they took photographs. 

With all eyes on Sophia, Merlin was free to scan the crowd, he caught the movements of a man starting to approach Sophia out of corner of his eyes and as he turned Merlin made eye contact with the man, and he immediately started to flee. Merlin signalled to Arthur, trying to get his attention. But Arthur frowned at him, seemingly more concerned with ensuring Sophia wasn’t overwhelmed or intimidated by the press rather than the unknown person who had been acting suspiciously who had just hurried off towards the door at the back of the warehouse. 

Merlin slid past the group watching Sophia and followed the man swiftly towards the door. Mentally making a note of his face, height, hair colour and clothing, just in case. The man glanced back over his shoulder and hurried on, Merlin’s magic churned uneasily and he didn’t like the way it prickled uncomfortably under his skin, as though ready and anticipating being used. He went through the door and glanced left and the right, and then— 

There was a crack, and Merlin looked over at his assailant as the pain kicked in, stars blooming behind his eyes. He staggered and held his hand out to use his magic to defend himself, but it sparked uselessly at his fingertips. The man, who was not much more than a blurred figure to Merlin, came at him again with some kind of big stick. Merlin held his arm in front of his face to block the blow, and managed to grasp the pole with both hands. Using his leverage, he flipped the man onto the ground. Merlin fell on top of him, trying to pin him down, but his body wasn’t cooperating. The man bucked and kicked him off, and Merlin sprawled over onto his back.

The mystery man pounced on him and landed a hard blow to his jaw before Merlin could grab at his arms in an attempt to stop him. He was strong—he managed to wrestle his arms free and get in another good punch before Merlin could struggle free from him and flip him over onto his front. Merlin straddled him and reached behind his back for his handcuffs. He clicked them into place, panting hard and slumping over the man’s back.

“Who are you?” he gritted out. “What. Do. You. Want?”

The man twisted his head and looked up at him. He glanced at the small rainbow pin on Merlin’s jacket—a gift from Sophia—and his lips curled into a sneer.

“Oh, you’re one of _them._ ”

“ _What_ did you just say?”

The man's face turned dark and ugly with rage. Then, without warning, he spat in Merlin’s face

“Fuck off, you queer!”

Merlin narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold on the man as he tried to grapple free.

“Watch your mouth,” Merlin growled, gripping the man’s wrists tightly.

“I don’t have to do anything for the likes of you! I bet you’re the reason Princess Sophia became a lesbo! You’re a disease, mate. Poison! You’ve corrupted our royal family!” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Merlin, as firmly and calmly as he could. He’d heard much worse language hurled against him over the years; besides, the man was obviously trying to antagonise him. “Yeah, I’m gay,” he told the man. “And proud of it. And the princess? Well, she’s happy. Either way, it doesn’t matter and is certainly none of your fucking business what anyone gets up to in their personal lives.”

“You turned her gay and ruined everything!” the man said, writhing violently.

Merlin continued to hold him, despite his aggressive thrashing.

“Oh? Did you think you had a chance with her?” he taunted. “I’ve got news for you _mate_ , the princess wouldn’t be with you if you were the last man on Earth. Because she has _standards_. She wouldn’t touch a filthy hair on your homophobic body.”

The man roared and flipped Merlin off of him. He got to his feet quicker than Merlin was able to, having had the element of surprise, and began to kick Merlin in the gut, hard. 

“The royal family is nothing but a drain on our society! What fucking purpose do they serve? They’re fucking leeches on the rest of us!” the man shouted as he readied himself for another kick.  


Merlin cried out in shock and pain at the first kick, and was gasping for air by the time the second one landed. 

“Too high and fucking mighty for their own good! What do they even _do_? And now they’ve got fucking _faggots_ on their payroll!”

The man changed his target for the third kick and caught Merlin in the face. A hot wetness trickled from Merlin’s nose and down his chin as his face began to throb.

Merlin clasped his hands around his head as readied himself for a fourth kick, not having enough time to do anything other than protect himself.

“HEY!” yelled different voice. “What the _HELL_ do you think you’re doing!?”

The next thing Merlin knew, he was being pulled up into a sitting position. His head was swimming and he tried to push the person away from him so that he could get away, but was barely able to coordinate his arms. He tried again, able to put more force behind his shove this time and tried to scramble to his feet. 

“Merlin?” asked a voice laced with anxiety. “Hey, hey! It’s all right.”

Merlin grunted in response as he collapsed back onto the ground.

“Merlin, are you okay? Look, there are paramedics on the way. They’re going to check you out. But until they get here I need you to keep talking to me, okay?”

“Who are you?” Merlin asked, squinting at the vaguely human shape the voice was coming from. He couldn’t place the voice, but he knew that he knew it. It was familiar, comforting. The man’s face blurred into focus for a few brief moments. Merlin tried his best to concentrate on the face again, but couldn’t be sure if he was seeing properly. “Arthur?” he slurred.

“Of course it’s me. Now, let’s get you up on your feet, if you think you can manage it.”

“But— Wasn’t there…? I think there was a…?”

Arthur helped haul Merlin to his feet, and Merlin clung tightly to Arthur’s jacket, not sure that his legs would hold up properly of their own accord.

“There was a man. But don’t worry. He’s been taken care of. Honestly, Merlin!” Arthur scolded as he slung Merlin’s arm around his neck and wrapped his own around Merlin’s waist. Merlin thought it felt rather nice there. “What were you thinking, going after him like that unaided? He could have killed you!”

“Nah,” said Merlin, dismissively. And it was true. Over the course of his life, Merlin had discovered that, for reasons he had yet to ascertain, well… he couldn’t die. It sounded dramatic when he put it that way. But considering some of the situations Merlin had been in where he _should_ have died—that time he fell off the roof at Will’s, the car accident that where he’d saved Sophia, and some other desperate situations when he had been in a dark place—he didn’t know how else to explain the way he always seemed to miraculously pull through, no matter what he did. He hadn’t wanted to test it too much beyond that. But Merlin was pretty sure he couldn’t die. “Can’t die,” he blurted out to Arthur. “Tried before.”

“What?” said Arthur, manhandling Merlin so that he could flop him down into a chair. Arthur crouched in front of him and held up his hand. “You seem confused, Merlin. I think you might have a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Merlin stared blankly at him for a few minutes as he tried to process what Arthur had said. “Six?” he guessed.

Arthur tutted. “Definitely concussed,” he murmured to himself and started dabbing at Merlin’s nose.

“Ow,” Merlin complained shying away from him. “Don’t. That _hurts_.”

“It may hurt, and it looks horrific, but I think you’ve escaped merely with a nice bit of epistaxis. Your nose doesn’t feel broken.”

Merlin made a noise of discomfort and tried to turn away from Arthur’s enquiring touch.

“Merlin! Stop that and stay still,” Arthur reprimanded.

“Why? You’re not doctor,” Merlin huffed.

“No, I’m not,” said Arthur, pulling another tissue out of his pocket and squeezing the bridge of Merlin’s nose. Merlin totally did not at all let out a squeak of pain at his actions. “But I did do three years of med school. So I’m betting that makes me a more of an expert on the human body than you.”

“Prat,” Merlin said under his breath. 

“Now that sounds a lot more like the Merlin I know,” Arthur commented. “Feeling better?”

“No,” said Merlin. Actually he felt worse, and before he could think much more of it, he threw up, only narrowly missing Arthur. Once his body had finished vacating itself of its stomach contents, he sat back in the chair, his head tilted back, exhausted.

“Actually they recommend that you lean forward now for nosebleeds.”

Merlin flipped him off with two fingers.

***

The next thing Merlin remembered clearly was waking up in hospital. Not a normal hospital like the ones he’d experienced in his childhood, but a soft, comfortable, cosy one, in a room that could almost be mistaken for a sparse bedroom.

There was a quiet hum of activity from outside the door, but inside the room was quite calm and peaceful. Merlin tried to sit up, but sharp pains shot through his abdomen and he cried out. He relaxed back onto the bed and ran his hand over his chest, hissing when he got to the bruising on his abs. Ouch. So that was the problem. He took a deep breath and braced himself. It took several attempts before he could manage to get up on his elbows, and then, after another pause, a few more minutes to get all the way to sitting. He bit his lip and ever so slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

He waited again as the room spun around him and his head started to throb. He couldn’t quite remember exactly what had happened. They’d been at the ship launch, hadn’t they? There had been a man. Merlin knew they’d had some kind of scuffle, but between the pain, and the aches, and the way his head felt fuzzy, he couldn’t recall it with much detail. 

His injuries were evidently why he was here. But he knew that once he was home and had rested up for a few days, his magic would take care of most of the damage.

It was still quiet in the hospital, and Merlin wondered what time it was and—as he looked down at the plain patterned gown—where his clothes were. They’d better not have destroyed his leather jacket. Merlin loved that jacket. It suited him. It gave him a certain don’t-fuck-with-me air. 

Taking another deep breath, he dropped from the bed to the floor with a wince and whimpered as the movement tugged at an IV in his arm. More alert now, Merlin took the whole place in. It was a nice room. Probably a private hospital. He spotted a small wardrobe in the corner, nice cupboards, a plush sofa and reclining armchair, with a decorative sink in the corner. All designed to make the place as homely as possible for the patient and their visitors.

The wardrobe, Merlin decided. If his clothes were to be found anywhere, they would probably be in there. He eyed the IV stand. It had wheels, but it was also plugged into the wall. Well, he could probably just unplug it. He’d seen patients walking through the halls with these same kind of stands on TV shows all the time. He yanked out the power cord and made his way over to the wardrobe as quickly as his injured ribs would allow him. Opening the door, Merlin felt a wave of relief flood over him. His clothes were all there, neatly hanging up. Perfect. He’d pull out the IV, get dressed, and then figure out how to get home from there. The princess would tell him off, but Merlin knew that she’d be relieved to see him home and back on duty. At least he’d stopped that nutcase from getting to her. 

As he pulled his jacket off the hanger, there was a soft ‘click’ behind him.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” came Arthur’s sharp voice.

Merlin whirled around and had to bite back a gasp of pain. He clutched his ribs through his jacket.

“I’m going home,” he told Arthur honestly.

“There’s no way you’re ready to go home yet.” Arthur strode over to him and grabbed the jacket, hanging it back up neatly in the wardrobe. “You can barely walk.”

“I’m fine!” Merlin insisted.

Arthur shoved a finger firmly in his ribs and Merlin grasped the nearby chest of drawers as he doubled over from the pain, completely breathless. Tears pricked at his eyes again.

“Fuck,” he gasped under his breath.

“See? You’re not fine. Get back into bed,” Arthur ordered, pulling back the sheets and giving Merlin a stern look.

“Arthur! I am. I—”

Arthur shot him another poisonous look and Merlin hurried to comply.

Once he was settled, Arthur plugged the machine back in and sat down in the armchair with a paper cup of coffee in his hand. As Merlin watched him, he suddenly became aware of the fact that Arthur looked _awful_. He was pale, unshaven and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Arthur seemed unaware of being under observation as he stared at the wall and rubbed his jaw with his hands.

“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?” he said finally, still looking at the wall.

Merlin looked down at his hands. 

“Sorry.” 

Arthur turned to look at him, a haunted expression on his face. “You could have _died_.”

Merlin laughed. Even if he were normal like everyone else, the man still wouldn’t likely have killed him. 

“A bit overdramatic, don’t you think?” he quipped, trying to lighten the situation.

But Arthur was staring at him, his face drawn and his eyes red rimmed, and the thought struck Merlin that Arthur might have been crying. 

“No, I don’t! He could have killed you, and I couldn’t bear to—”

Arthur shook his head and looked away, pressing a clenched fist to his mouth.

“Couldn’t bear to what?” Merlin asked quietly.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you,” Arthur said.

Merlin frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Arthur got up and paced the room, his arms folded behind his back. He didn’t seem able to speak.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice soft. “There’s clearly something about this bothering you. And I don’t think it’s the fact that I was doing my job.”

“Doing your job!?” Arthur spat out.

“Yes, _doing my job._ My job is to protect the Princess Sophia. At all costs, Arthur. At _all_ costs. Even if that cost is my life. You know that. That’s _your_ job, too. So don’t you dare be mad at me for that.”

“It wasn’t necessary. You should have alerted me!” 

“I did! I tried to get your attention but you either didn’t see me, or you ignored me. So I took care of it myself.”

“And a fine job you did of it, too!”

Merlin just smiled and shrugged at him. “I’m still here.”

“Yeah,” Arthur said bitterly. “Thanks to me.”

The room fell silent again, save for the hum of the machines in the background. Merlin didn’t understand. Why was Arthur acting like this? Arthur had never seemed particularly bothered about him before. Why was he bothered now? He’d said he couldn’t bear to lose Merlin, but most of the time he was actively standoffish towards him, pushing him away. That didn’t seem like the action of a man who couldn’t stand to lose him. Arthur had a tough exterior that Merlin hadn’t been able to get past. 

He watched Arthur again, still pacing, and a thought struck him.

“What happened, Arthur?” he asked quietly.

Arthur halted where he was and looked over at him with surprise. He glanced over at the chair by Merlin’s bed and slumped down into it again, resignedly.

He look a deep breath and looked as though he was contemplating saying something, but wasn’t quite able to say it.

“It’s okay,” Merlin said quietly. “Take your time.”

Arthur closed his eyes, and for a moment it looked like he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly and Merlin watched Arthur out the corner of his eyes. 

Several long moments passed, before Arthur’s eyes snapped open and he started to talk.

“During a previous job—years ago now—there was an incident.” He licked his lips and wrung his hands, before gripping his knees as though he couldn’t decide what to do with them. “I made a mistake. I didn’t spot something in time, and it cost my partner his life.”

“Oh,” said Merlin, some things finally clicking into place. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur looked at him, his mouth downturned and chin trembling ever so slightly. “He was stabbed by a man targeting our boss. I should have seen him; I should have spotted the knife. I didn’t even notice. The event was considered a low risk, and I let my guard down. I’d been talking rather than paying attention. It could just as easily have been me. It _should_ have been me. We were standing side by side. But my colleague—my friend—Leon, he spotted it. But it was too late. He—he bled to death in my arms. I was distracted then, and I swore I’d never let my guard down like that again. And then you disappeared! I didn’t even see you go. And I found you in that fight… my mind immediately went to the worst place. _You could have died, Merlin._ Because I let my guard down again.”

Merlin shook his head at him and scratched it, confused. “Arthur, what happened wasn’t your fault. It’s part of the job. It’s a risk _we all take_ to keep the people we care for safe. And Sophia and I… I’ve known her since she was a little kid. I’d guard her life with my own.”

“I know,” Arthur murmured.

A peaceful silence settled on the room as Merlin tried to absorb all the new information from Arthur. It was enlightening, certainly. And Arthur had played his cards close to his chest. Merlin had had no idea. He’d just thought that Arthur was being awkward and uptight.

“So, is this why you’ve been such a prat then?”

Arthur’s head shot up, along with his eyebrows as he stared at Merlin. “A prat? Is that what you think I am?”

“Well… You have at admit you’ve not exactly been friendly with me...” 

“I wasn’t aware that being professional about my job made me a prat,” Arthur retorted with annoyance.

“Yeah, well, you know what I mean. You didn’t need to be so aloof and unapproachable about it. There are plenty of ways of being professional that don’t involve being hostile to any attempts at friendship, no matter what happened in the past.”

“I couldn’t take that risk. I couldn’t lose a—a friend like that again.”

Merlin smiled. “A friend? Is that what we are now?” Arthur shrugged non-committedly. And Merlin grinned further as he realised that that meant yes. “Look, you’re not going to lose anyone, I promise you. I can take care of myself. And if you’re so concerned about me and my well-being, then how about you stop interfering and let me go home? I don’t want to be hooked up to a bunch of machines. I’m fine. Just some bruising and aches and pains. Nothing that won’t get better at home as well as it will here.”

Arthur stood up and glared at him. “Absolutely not. You have severe head trauma, bad bruising to your torso and a cracked rib, plus you appear to be experiencing concussion.”

“You sound like a doctor,” Merlin joked.

“Almost,” Arthur replied. “But not quite.” Frowning, Merlin recalled the conversation he’d had with Arthur before he’d passed out at the docks. Arthur had said he’d done several years of medical school. How had Merlin not known that? “It’s one of the reasons Aulfric chose me—so that Sophia would have immediate medical treatment from someone highly qualified should the worst ever happen.”

Merlin bit his lip and shuffled over to the edge of the bed, slipping off it to the floor. He winced at the movement.

“In which case, you’ll know that all those things you listed off are minor in the grand scheme of things and that they can be monitored at home,” he said, raising his eyebrow and shooting Arthur a sharp, determined look as he started to peel off the dressing. “So are you going to take out this IV, or should I?” 

Arthur batted his hand away and pulled a rolling trolley up to the bed. “Stop that and sit down,” he commanded. “In the interests of _not_ making more work for the nurses, I’ll do it.”

“You should have been a surgeon,” Merlin complained. “You’re bossy enough for it.”

***

Over the next few weeks, Merlin recovered rapidly. 

He was kept off duty by Gaius, much to his chagrin, but despite his best arguments, Gaius, Arthur and Sophia all conspired against him. And he wasn’t being sulky, nor was he the worst patient in the world, regardless of what Arthur claimed. He simply hated all the time he spent in his and Arthur’s apartment alone. He missed being busy; it wasn’t natural for him to sit around waiting for so long. He longed to be hanging out at the back of the lecture hall or in a booth at Sophia’s favourite coffee house. At least when they were all at home in Kensington Palace, Sophia would insist that he be allowed to accompany her on a gentle stroll around the gardens.

At first, everything had been a struggle for Merlin, and though he tried not to show quite how bad the pain was, Arthur just seemed to know. He had always been there, at the ready to administer more pain medication. The first night they came home, Arthur had insisted on waking him regularly to check for concussion as he would have been at the hospital, even though in Merlin’s opinion the risk of that was long gone. By morning, Merlin was ready to thump him in his stupid, pretty, medical student face. 

And that wasn’t the only way Arthur had been overcompensating either. He obviously still felt a sense of guilt and responsibility for Merlin’s injuries, despite Merlin’s insistence that it wasn’t his fault. When Arthur went back to guarding Sophia a few days after the incident, he set about preparing Merlin the most ridiculously healthy vegetarian meals to eat in his absence. 

“We wouldn’t want you to slip and hurt yourself getting lunch, or burn the palace down. How would that look, Merlin?” 

“Glad to know you think so highly of me, Doctor Pendragon.”

Arthur had to help him change the dressing on his ribs for the first week or so, because Merlin simply did not have the range of motion required to attend to his injuries himself, and _that_ had been more than a little awkward for Merlin, even though he knew that from Arthur’s point of view there was nothing remotely sexual or arousing about it. To him it was just a part of being professional, but Merlin couldn’t help that a little bit of their morning rituals found their way into his fantasies. 

Merlin pushed his magic to heal himself quicker than he really should have. He knew that he shouldn’t—not when Arthur was so well-versed on injuries and recovery times. But he was desperate to get back to work as soon as possible. He just hoped that he wasn’t being too quick and obvious about his recovery. 

Pride continued to get get closer, and they were starting to plan properly for it now. Gaius had promised Merlin that as long as he continued healing as well has he had been, he would be back on duty in time for it, but Merlin was determined to be back at work much sooner than that.

He surprised Arthur early one morning by waiting for him in jogging bottoms, a T-shirt and trainers at the door of their apartment. 

“So, are we going for a run or what?” he asked.

Scoffing at him, Arthur grabbed his water bottle and pushed past him to the door, putting his earbuds in. “There’s no ‘we’ Merlin. You’re not going. End of.”

“Why not?” Merlin demanded hotly. 

“Because you’re not ready yet. Gaius already discussed this with you.”

“I am ready!” Merlin insisted.

Arthur shook his head at him.

“You all agreed that when I could keep up with you for an entire morning run, I’d be allowed back to work!” Merlin said, holding the door closed with his arm. “Just let me try. If I can’t keep pace with you, then you can send me back and I’ll wait another week. And if you don’t let me, well, I’ll—I’ll go anyway!” he declared passionately, before his tone of voice became more wheedling. “Come on Arthur... Pride is getting closer, and I need to be fit for that! I’m going to come back to work next week anyway, not matter what you all say. Nothing’s going to stop me.”

“I will,” Arthur said flatly.

“Will not. Just watch me!” Merlin pulled open the door and raced out of it, leaving Arthur to catch him up.

At the end of the run, Merlin collapsed on the ground under a tree, spread out like a starfish. His chest was heaving and his shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to his chest; he kind of felt like he was going to be sick, but he was too jubilant to care. He’d done it. He’d kept up with Arthur for the whole run, despite Arthur being a rotten cheat and pushing Merlin way, way harder than he would have done during their normal jogging routine. Way harder than Arthur would have pushed himself, even as a challenge.

“How’d I do?” Merlin panted with a grin. “Good enough to go back to work?”

Staring down at him with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, Arthur frowned. 

“How did you do that?” he asked curiously.

“Well,” said Merlin, still out of breath. “First, you put one foot in front of the other… and then you—”

“Not running, you idiot. How did you keep pace with me? How did you run for so long? There’s _no way_ you should have been able to make all of that whilst recovering from your injuries.”

Merlin laughed uneasily. “I kept telling you, they weren’t as bad as they looked.”

Arthur pounced on him suddenly, making Merlin yell out loud. Pinning him down, Arthur started tugging at his T-shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Merlin said anxiously, wriggling and trying to fight Arthur off. But Arthur was determined, and he pushed up Merlin’s shirt to his armpits and ran a warm hand over his smooth, unblemished torso. It lingered there for a long moment. 

“This— this isn’t possible,” said Arthur in astonishment. “You don’t have any bruising, no healing skin—it’s all… it’s like it never happened. Merlin...”

Merlin swallowed nervously, wishing his body would quit acting like he was a teenage boy. Having Arthur sat straddling him was causing completely inappropriate thoughts to play through his mind. Arthur’s eyes traveled up his body until he was looking Merlin in the eyes with a mixture of surprise and concern and confusion. Merlin licked his lips. 

“I heal fast!” he said. “Always have, even when I was a kid. That’s all.”

Shaking his head, Arthur’s face hardened and he gripped Merlin’s shirt. “I was training to be a doctor, Merlin. I helped you to dress your wounds when you couldn’t. Don’t bullshit me. _No one_ heals that quickly. What are you? Some kind of super-soldier?”

“I’m—I’m just like you!” Merlin protested. 

Arthur scowled again and released the T-shirt, getting to his feet. 

“Get up Merlin, we’re going home.”

Merlin sat up and grinned awkwardly at him, debating whether or not to push his luck. “Does this mean I can come back to work?”

***

After a talk with Gaius, wherein Arthur tried to enquire exactly why Merlin might heal so quickly, and Gaius disclosed nothing, Merlin was reinstated for work. But Arthur kept his nose to the grindstone with healthy breakfasts and long morning runs at the crack of dawn, as though _he_ was the person with seniority on their team of two, rather than Merlin. Merlin was of the opinion that Arthur was trying to get some kind of reaction out of him, pushing him to breaking point in the hopes he might discover all of Merlin’s secrets. He hadn’t mentioned Merlin’s super-fast healing again. At least, not so far. But Merlin was aware of how closely he was being watched, so there were no more tricks, no more subterfuge with his magic. Just his own natural abilities, which, despite his tendency to be a bit clumsy, weren’t all that bad. Not with all the time and training he’d put into his work over the years. 

They had just received the finalised plans for the route from the Pride officials, and the real planning to identify all the risks and most vulnerable points was underway. They still argued extensively about the best way to approach things—though things never got as heated as they had the first time—and passionately debated all the pros and cons, but eventually, they came to an agreement. They would post both plain-clothed and uniformed police officers along the route, as well as several other royal agents, all connected via radio earpieces to ensure Sophia’s safety, while Merlin and Arthur would accompany the princess and Gwen at all times on the float and as Sophia walked for the last part of the parade. 

Merlin, for his part, tried to keep the additional staff to a minimum and by night he ran his own background checks on them all, breaking through official government firewalls in order to gain access their confidential records. He wasn’t going to take any risks. Not with all the threats against Sophia. 

He had considered checking out Arthur’s records before, back when Aulfric had first hired him, but he’d managed to refrain from doing so, despite the temptation. He’d had a sneaking feeling that, if he had nosed in on Arthur’s past and Arthur found out, Arthur would never forgive such a deliberate breach of his privacy. And though Merlin would deny it in public, in the privacy of his own thoughts, Arthur had already become comfortable and familiar somehow. As though they’d already known each other for years and they were just supposed to be here at this moment in time. Despite Arthur’s stand-offish demeanor, Merlin trusted him. 

Merlin was confident that if there was more to know about the incident where Arthur had lost his partner, then Arthur would tell him. Eventually. And although it had taken being hospitalised with Merlin suffering several painful injuries for his troubles, his resilience and patience had been rewarded when Arthur had opened up to him at the hospital.

***

“Merlin!” said Sophia brightly, looking up as he entered her drawing room. She looked over his shoulder. “No Arthur?” she asked innocently. A little _too_ innocently.

“No,” said Merlin, taking a seat in the armchair. “It’s his day off, you know that.”

To be honest, Merlin wasn’t sure if he was happy or disappointed that Arthur was off duty and not by his side. Of late, Arthur was attempting to be more cooperative and less antagonistic. And It was finally starting to feel like they might be able to be friends as well as colleagues, now that Merlin knew that Arthur’s attitude wasn’t personal. But he could tell that there was still some kind of barrier there between them. And try as he may, Merlin just couldn’t quite seem to get past it and become a proper friend to Arthur. Perhaps patience would reward him here again, as it had done once before. 

“Of course.” The princess studied him for a moment. Then she sprang to her feet. “Come outside and take a walk with me. It’s lovely today, and I need some fresh air after all this studying. I do so miss our walks at Kensington, don’t you?”

“I—Well, yes, of course I do. We’ve been having walks there together since you were little. But you’ve got Gwen now, and—” 

“Oh, Merlin!” she said, patting his arm and taking his hands in hers. “You don’t think that Gwen could ever, ever take that place in my heart that I have for you do you? You are very special to me, and you’ve always been there for me over the years, in ways that no one else has. I know you’ve worked hard to make sure that I had as normal a childhood as a girl could have. Well, a girl who is a princess, anyway. I will always care for you, just as you will always care for me. That is why you must come with me. Now, get up and let’s head on out. I’ll get my coat.”

With that, Sophia whisked away and back towards the front door, and Merlin heaved a sigh as he got to his feet and followed her.

“Come on!” she urged. 

Merlin wondered just what she was up to. He knew Sophia well, and if she was being this insistent about going out for a ‘spontaneous’ walk, then it was for a reason. Was she thinking of marrying Gwen already and wanted to know how to approach her father about the matter, perhaps? Or was she looking for some other kind of LGBT advice from him, as though he were her knowledgeable gay uncle?

Finally outside and walking across campus, Merlin found himself wishing that he’d brought a scarf to combat the chilling wind. It teased at the back of his neck and his ears, sending a shiver down his spine.

“So,” he began when Sophia looped her arm through his, as was their usual custom. “What’s this whole ‘Oh, Merlin! We’ve not been on a walk together in _so long_ ’ thing all about, hmm? Is it about Gwen?”

Sophia smiled beguilingly at him, her eyes big and wide. “Oh, honestly. Why on Earth would you think I had an ulterior motive? I’m offended!”

“Because you always do,” Merlin said, unable to hide a smile. He accepted the boiled sweet Sophia offered him—another relic from their childhood walks, and fixed her with a pointed look.

“Well,” she conceded. “I did want to have a word with you, you’re right about that. But not about Gwen. It’s about you, actually.”

“Me?” he asked with surprise. The last thing Merlin had expected was for Sophia to want to talk about him. “Why me?”

“Because I’ve been worried about you, my dear Merlin. You’ve been lonely for so long.”

Merlin scoffed at her. “I’m not lonely, Soph. I have lots of things going on in my life. I don’t have the time to be lonely.” 

“All right, then. Tell me one thing that you do regularly that’s not work?” she challenged him.

“I go running,” said Merlin. “And I go to the gym.”

Sophia hit his arm. “Things that are fun!”

“Running is fun,” said Merlin, scowling as he rubbed his arm. Sophia could pack quite the punch when she wanted to. “And important,” he added with a serious nod.

Sophia screwed up her nose. “You know what I mean. What do you do _socially_? I mean, when was  
the last time you went out for the night? Met someone? Had fun? Fell in _love_?”

“Not going out doesn’t mean that someone isn’t social,” Merlin grumbled,. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I went out a few weeks go.”

“Oooh. Did you pull?” Sophia teased.

“Sophia…” he said warningly.

“Did you?” she wheedled. “Come on... you know all about my love life, why can’t I know about yours? It’s only fair!”

Because it’s non-existent, Merlin wanted to say, but instead, he replied, “Because it wouldn’t be professional of me. And as I said before, it’s not your business.”

“Aww. That’s a no then? Poor you.”

“What!? For your information, I di—”

Clapping her hands gleefully Sophia squealed. “Details, details! Was he a good shag? A good kisser?” Merlin glared at her with frustration. “When am I going to meet him?”

“Never. We decided that we weren’t compatible. That’s all I’m going to say. Now, a little less of the nosiness, please.”

They meandered down the street to the nearby park, and Sophia smiled at him as she twirled around a tree.

“You know who I think you should date?” she asked.

With a laugh and a roll of his eyes, Merlin humoured her. “No, I don’t know. Who?”

“Arthur, of course!” she said. She settled beneath the tree and patted the ground next to her for Merlin to sit. He did so, shaking his head.

“Arthur?” he asked disbelievingly. “Sophia, don’t get me wrong, Arthur’s a decent guy and I like him well enough, even though we did get off on the wrong foot at the beginning. But Arthur? Come on now, Soph. He’s as straight as they come. ”

Sophia made an almighty exasperated noise. “Oh my God, really, Merlin? Really, _really_? How can you honestly think that _Arthur_ is straight? You are a first class idiot.”

“Sophia, I think I’d know better than you if Arthur was gay! I do live with the man, and I’m not blind. Nor am I an idiot.”

"Please,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I've been watching Arthur make eyes at you from day one." 

Merlin huffed a laugh at her. “You’re deluding yourself. Arthur doesn’t have eyes for me, any more than I have for eyes for him.”

Sophia snorted. “Don’t lie to me, Merlin. Gwen and I have seen you watching him, too. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been amusing for us, but it’s getting old now. You guys need to open your eyes and actually _see_ for once, so I took it upon myself to enlighten you. You’re welcome. In fact, give it a month and I bet the two of you will be fucking like bunnies,” she said.

“Sophia Elizabeth Margaret Anne of Kent!” Merlin exclaimed. “Watch your mouth. Trust me. Me and Arthur? Never gonna happen. Now, come on. Let’s get you back. You have a lecture in half an hour.”

Getting to her feet, Sophia slung her handbag over her shoulder and smiled mischievously at him. “Fine. But the gentleman doth protest too much, methinks.”

“Less Shakespeare, more walking,” Merlin called back to her as he strode away in the direction of campus.

***

The day of the parade approached quickly, and before they knew it, they were driving from Sophia’s university to the hotel where they would be staying the night before Pride. They had left as soon as possible after Gwen and Sophia’s last lectures had finished for the week, but the traffic was bad all the way there, and it was late when they arrived, the evening light fading fast.

By the time they got out of the car, they were tired and frazzled and generally fed up. All that Merlin really wanted to do was get inside, make sure Sophia and Gwen were settled, and then retreat to the privacy of his own room where he could finally rest and get a good night’s sleep. 

Whilst Arthur went to park their car, Merlin took Sophia and Gwen in through the side door to the hotel reception. Ladened down with several heavy cases—why did the girls need so much stuff for a single overnight stay?—Merlin staggered to the desk. He rang the bell and a young man, elegantly dressed in an official looking uniform, appeared from the back office. His eyes roamed up and down Merlin’s person for a few moments, as though he didn’t think much of him, before he tilted his nose up haughtily and clasped his arms behind his back. 

“Yes, sir?” he asked, disdainfully. “Do you have a reservation?”

Merlin dropped the bags to the ground, where they made a loud thud, and the receptionist’s eyebrow rose incrementally, almost touching his hairline.

“Yes, three rooms, please,” Merlin said, panting. “Under the name Emrys.”

The man smiled tightly at him. “Of course, sir.” He typed away at his computer keyboard, not even deigning to look up as he asked, “I’m sorry, sir. How many rooms did you say you were booked in for?”

“Three,” replied Merlin, with half an eye on Sophia, who was on the phone to a friend and turned away from him. “The royal suite and two rooms adjacent to it.”

Humming thoughtfully, the receptionist returned to tapping on his keyboard. Merlin drummed his fingers on the desk, just wanting to be done already and have the princess booked in and settled so that he, too, could turn in for the night.

Looking up at him with an apologetic expression, the man said, “I’m sorry, sir, but it appears the booking is for the royal executive suite, and a room beside it. Two rooms total.”

Merlin shook his head. “No, there has to be some kind of mistake. Can you check your system again, please?”

The receptionist returned back to the computer, tapping at the typeboard in an exaggerated manner without even looking at the screen. He locked eyes with Merlin. 

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no mistake. Our system clearly shows that you booked the royal executive suite—an excellent choice for your client, by the way—and one adjoining room. A standard security setup for a _celebrity_ who requires a level of _protection_ from crazed fans. I am sure you will find the accommodations most satisfactory.”

“No—you don’t understand, we definitely booked thr—”

Merlin jumped as Arthur appeared at his shoulder and spoke softly in his ear. “Merlin, what’s the hold up? We need to get the princess into her room so that she can rest and relax.”

“There’s only one additional room,” Merlin told him.

“What!?” exclaimed Arthur. “No. No way. You’ve made an error.”

“I apologise, sir. But as I was explaining to your colleague, our system shows that your reservation is for the suite plus one additional room,” the receptionist repeated.

Arthur scowled fiercely and stepped closer, leaning on the edge of the desk. “Well then,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “I guess you’ll just have to. find. us. another one, then.”

“I—I’m sorry, sir,” the man stuttered, faltering and shrinking under Arthur’s glare. “B—but we are b-booked to f-full capacity and currently have n-no vacancies because of th-the p-parade tomorrow. There are n-no spare rooms.”

Arthur pushed his face closer, so that he and the man were nose to nose. “I don’t think you understand, _sir_ ,” he said mockingly. “But we are here with Her Royal Highness, the Princess Sophia of Kent. So you’d better find us another room. Near hers. Move someone or something. I don’t care _how_ you do it. Just that you do.”

“Sir—” said the man, getting distressed. “I can’t— We don’t— I understand that your client is royalty, but—”

Merlin grasped Arthur by the arm to pull him back, and Arthur glanced over at him sharply, danger in his eyes. For a moment Merlin was sure he was about to be punched, but then a glint of recognition appeared in his eyes and Arthur visibly relaxed.

“Look, Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “It’s fine. It’s just one night. There was obviously some kind of mix up with the reservation somewhere along the line, but arguing with the staff isn’t going to change anything. They’re booked up. Sophia and Gwen are tired. Let’s just forget about this for now and go and get them settled, huh?”

The tension drained out of Arthur shoulders and he slumped a little. He gave Merlin a curt nod and proceeded to gather up the bags whilst Merlin got the keys to their rooms.

“Your Highness, Ms Smith!” Merlin called, and Gwen and Sophia both turned to look at him, tired smiles on their faces.

“The room is ready?” Sophia asked. Merlin nodded. “Thank goodness. I was beginning to think we’d be waiting half the night, and I’m so tired!” 

For someone who was tired, Sophia kept up a steady narrative all the way to the lift and up to the top floor of the hotel, seemingly unaware of the unspoken tension hanging in the air between Merlin and Arthur. 

What were they going to do? Arthur had been pretty desperate to get an additional room. Merlin had placated him for now, but he worried about how Arthur was going to react when it became apparent that there would be no other solution to their situation, and they would have to share. Why did Arthur care so much, anyway? It wasn’t like they weren’t already living together. This wasn’t going to be much worse than that, surely, and it was only for the night. They would muddle through somehow.

***

Arthur pushed the key card into the door and then pulled it swiftly out. The lock blinked red and beeped at him. He tried it again and again, his jaw tightening along with his fists as it failed repeatedly. 

At last, Merlin gently pushed him aside. 

“Let me try,” he said.

“I can do it, Merlin. I’m not an idiot,” said Arthur crossly.

“I didn’t say you were, though you’re certainly acting like an ass right now,” Merlin retorted.

Arthur slapped the card into Merlin’s hand and stepped back. 

“Fine!” he snapped. “You have a go if you’re so great at it, _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he pushed the card in. 

He hoped to God this would work. Arthur had been a total arse from the moment they’d confirmed the single room was not a mix up (Tyr’s fault, it turned out: he hadn’t changed the default profile for Sophia’s overnight stay on the palace’s computer system, and so one room had been budgeted for and booked rather than the two required). Regardless of the error and Arthur’s bad attitude, Merlin couldn’t wait to get inside the room and finally sleep. He was not going to let something as small as a faulty key card keep them out of the room tonight. As he pulled the card out of the slot, Merlin let out a surge of magic, commanding the door to unlock and let them in. 

The light turned a solid green, and there was an audible click. Merlin pushed down the handle and opened the door, gesturing sarcastically for Arthur to go first. 

Arthur shoved past him, muttering under his breath. “Whatever. You just got lucky.”

Merlin grinned to himself and then sauntered into the room. Arthur was standing there, staring at the small double bed with something akin to horror. In the middle of the room, taking up pretty much all of the space, was a bed that couldn’t even really be considered a double, not for two fully-grown men.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Arthur said quickly, averting his gaze from the bed as Merlin stowed his bag away in the far corner of the room.

Merlin looked around. Where exactly was Arthur proposing that he sleep? There was barely enough space to swing a cat in the room as it was, and the floor only really allowed for them to store their bags and navigate their way around the bed. The only viable place someone could possibly sleep was hardly a thin sliver of space between the bed and the wall to the left side of the bed.

“Arthur, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, stripping off his leather jacket. He placed it on the back of a chair tucked under the tiny desk that housed an electric kettle, teabags and a lamp. “That space is tiny and you’re a grown adult. We’ll just share the bed.”

Arthur gave him a funny, half-panicked look. “No, no. It’s no trouble. I’ll be fine.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes suspiciously and gave Arthur a tight smile. He had his own thoughts as to why Arthur didn’t want to share the bed with him. He’d been pushing them to the back of his mind, but the whole time they’d been escorting Sophia and Gwen and securing their room, the same thought had been surging forward over and over again. 

But he wasn’t going to confront Arthur over it. Not after the day they’d had and with everything they had ahead of them tomorrow. Now was neither the time, nor the place for it. 

He’d speak to Arthur after Pride. He wouldn’t be confrontational about it, but he wanted to get to the truth of the matter. He could tell just from the way that Arthur was horrified at the prospect of having to sleep in the same bed as him that Sophia was wrong in her suspicions. Dead wrong. 

She’d been teasing Merlin for a while now that Arthur liked him. But that was a joke, it had to be. Because here was Arthur, who could barely even stand to even look at him, and it was obvious that he was repulsed at the thought of sharing a bed with a gay man. In that respect, their feelings were mutual; Merlin wasn’t looking forward to it either, though for completely different reasons than Arthur. 

As much as Merlin had tried to deny it when they’d first started working together, Arthur was very much Merlin’s type. He hadn’t been able to help the way that he had crushed on the other man, let alone all the dreams and thoughts that flitted through his head on a daily basis and the way that his body had reacted to them. So long as he was professional and kept all of that strictly private, Merlin had decided not to worry too much about it. After all, Arthur’s personality was a good enough turn off that when Merlin was around him, it put a stop to most of those thoughts and desires. Even so, Merlin wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of being in such close proximity to Arthur, lest he make the situation worse and Arthur even more uncomfortable. 

He swallowed. “Arthur, come on. Don’t be an arse about this. It’s been a long day. Let’s just get ready for bed and go to sleep. There’s room enough for both of us in the bed.”

“Fine,” snapped Arthur, turning on his heel and leaving for the bathroom.

Sighing, Merlin collapsed backwards onto the mattress. He listened to the faint sounds of Arthur getting ready for bed in the next room. Toilet flushing, the shower running... Oh fuck. He was going to have to deal with a damp, possibly dripping wet Arthur? Fantastic. Could this situation get any worse? He was going to kill Tyr when they got back for fucking up their booking so spectacularly. Still, at least Sophia was going to be able to go to Pride. For a moment there, Merlin had thought Arthur might pack them all back off into the car again and try to cancel the whole thing.

Getting up off of the bed, Merlin picked up his bag to get his things. He’d been tempted to skip the shower and wait until morning, but he’d noticed back home that Arthur was meticulous about having a shower before bed. He showered every night at nine pm like clock-work, and if they were going to have to be in such close proximity tonight, it was only fair that Merlin showered also. 

When they were at home, Merlin always managed to find some kind of excuse to keep him well away from the door of the bathroom at that time of the evening, so as not to have to witness Arthur in some kind of state of undress. It was bad enough that he imagined such things about his colleague; Arthur was well aware that he was gay, and he didn’t want him to think that Merlin was some kind of pervert or sexual deviant waiting around for a glimpse of him. So he found other things to busy himself with at that time of the night. Things like loading or unloading the dishwasher, or doing laundry, or making sure he was firmly seated on the sofa watching some kind of TV show that would keep him there for the duration of the shower. Here in their tiny room, though, there were no such distractions. 

On the other side of the wall, he heard the shower stop. So Merlin gathered his washbag, a pair of pyjama bottoms, and an old, comfy T-shirt, ready to take his turn in the bathroom. The sooner they were both ready for bed and fast asleep, the better.

The bathroom door opened, and Arthur stood there in front of him, dripping wet, holding a towel up around his waist. Merlin hastily averted his eyes, but feared the damage was already done: Arthur’s near-naked form was seared into his brain.

“Forgot to bring my pyjamas,” Arthur said, with a shrug of explanation. 

Merlin gave him a half-hearted nod, his eyes fixed on the bathroom behind him. 

“Mmmhmm,” he responded, and they slipped past each other in an exchange of places.

The door closed behind him, Merlin let out a big sigh of relief. He dropped his stuff on the counter and started the shower running again. He couldn’t help but think about how, minutes before, Arthur had been naked in this very room. Merlin pushed the thoughts aside and shed his clothes for his own shower.

As he stepped under the hot streaming water, his body slumped, tensions easing and his tired muscles finally feeling relief from the stressors of the day. Merlin’s hand automatically made its way to his cock. He probably shouldn’t... But then again, if he was going to spend the night sleeping next to Arthur—with that gorgeous chest and perfect abs and those stupidly sculpted hips—he probably should. It was a wise decision to take the edge off of any immediate urges. At the very least, he’d be able to fall asleep without worrying whether he might inadvertently get a hard-on. 

Turning up the water pressure, Merlin pushed his hair back out of his eyes with one hand and started pumping his hand up and down his cock with the other. He closed his eyes and let the water pour over his face, chest and hand, the image of Arthur in less than a towel filling his head. He wished so badly that what Sophia had said was true. That Arthur did fancy him, and that his own feelings, which he had completely and utterly denied, were reciprocated. 

That was even less likely than it had seemed before, given Arthur’s reaction today. But why limit yourself to reality? In Merlin’s best dreams, Arthur wasn’t a prat or stuck up at all; instead, he was dark and intense and rough with Merlin. Not that Merlin didn’t also enjoy being made love to, but there was just something so _good_ about being overpowered by another man and taken roughly that he loved. Or vice-versa, if that was what his partner preferred. Merlin was happy to give as well as receive. God, Arthur would look perfect underneath him as he fucked him, his face twisted and flushed with the pleasure Merlin was giving him... Merlin came with a gasp, and then hurried to wash himself and get ready for bed.

When he returned to the room, Arthur was already under the covers with his back to Merlin the bedside lamp still blazing on Merlin’s side of the bed. He shoved his clothes onto the desk chair, plugged his phone in by the nightstand, and then slid beneath the duvet. Merlin reached over and turned off the light.

“Night, Arthur,” he said softly. 

Arthur didn’t respond, but there was no tell-tale sound of deep, relaxed breathing that accompanied sleep. Merlin wrapped the duvet around his shoulders and curled his fingers in it, trying to quell the wave of anxiety that flooded him. He suddenly felt immensely guilty. He had forced Arthur into this. He had forced Arthur to do something that he was less than comfortable with, and that was wrong. He should have just let Arthur be all golden and noble and take the floor. Or offered to take the floor himself. He wasn’t as bulky as Arthur, so it would probably have been more comfortable for Merlin than it would have been for him. Merlin had half a mind to get out of bed now and just move onto the floor. Hopefully, Arthur wouldn’t notice, or maybe he would ignore it like he’d ignored Merlin saying good night just now.

“Night, Merlin,” came Arthur’s voice quietly, almost timidly, from behind him.

The sound of Arthur’s voice soothed him. Perhaps he had been rather unfair. After all, it wasn’t Arthur’s fault that he was as straight as an arrow and thus wasn’t interested in Merlin that way. He wasn’t really _that_ bad a guy, nor was he as surly as Merlin often painted him in his head. Arthur was just private. That was all. He was probably lamenting the lack of privacy as much as Merlin was.

Merlin bit his lip as he felt the heat of Arthur’s body at his back. God, what wouldn’t he give to be able to roll over and snuggle close, wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist and hold him whilst he fell asleep? It didn’t even have to be anything sexual. He just wanted to be close. To be intimate with him. 

Merlin missed intimacy the most. The last time he’d really felt close enough to someone to be close and comfortable with them, it had been when he was with Will, and that felt like an entire lifetime ago now.

Arthur shifted behind him, his hand brushing against Merlin’s back, his movements making the mattress bounce beneath them. Merlin froze in place. His whole body felt hot with excitement and tension, his magic buzzing beneath his fingertips. 

“Sorry,” said Arthur.

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, and his muscles tensed as he felt the hot puffs of Arthur's breath against the back of his neck. His skin tingled where Arthur’s breath touched it, his magic going crazy with the nervous excitation as his stomach did a weird flutter-flip. 

Was Arthur…? 

Before Merlin could think any further on it, Arthur moved away, sitting up and thumping the pillow before laying down again.

“Sorry,” he apologised again.

“S’okay,” Merlin said, gripping his own pillow tightly to give his hands something to do. He tried to focus on not losing control of his magic and resisting the urge to turn over so that he could see Arthur's beautiful face.

Behind him, Arthur yawned loudly. “Goodnight.”

“Uh, night,” Merlin responded. 

Merlin stayed awake for a long time, holding himself as still as possible, his mind a whirring storm of thoughts and ideas and arguments with himself about why he shouldn’t breathe, why he should barely even move until he was absolutely sure that Arthur had fallen asleep. His magic still simmered within him, but it was finally calming enough for Merlin to focus, and he listened out carefully until he heard the tell-tale way that Arthur's breathing grew longer and deeper and it became clear that he was sleeping. It was only then that Merlin finally let himself relax and be claimed by sleep, despite all the thoughts that were still swimming through his head.

***

Merlin woke in the middle of the night to find that, during their sleep, Arthur had rolled over to his side of bed and was more spooning him from behind, his arm draped heavily over Merlin's waist. As Merlin blinked the sleep out of his tired eyes and the fog of sleep started to clear, he realised that Arthur was gently rocking his body towards Merlin, and his hard cock — rather sizable, from the feel of it— was sliding slowly between Merlin's clothed buttocks. 

Suddenly Arthur froze, but as he held his own breath, Merlin reached behind and grabbed Arthur’s thigh encouragingly pulling him closer.

“Keep going,” Merlin whispered to him.

And slowly, hesistantly, Arthur started to move again. Merlin reached for his hand and wrapped Arthur’s arm around him.

Merlin just about choked on his own tongue when Arthur grew bolder and his hand slid under the waistband of Merlin’s pyjamas. 

“A—Arthur!” he gasped out. 

Arthur froze again.

“Do you want it?” he asked softly, smoothing his fingers across Merlin's lower belly.

“Y-yes.” Merlin exhaled, arching back into him. Arthur kissed the side of his neck and increased the speed of his thrusting. Was this a dream? It felt like it had to be a dream. He couldn't imagine how this could be real life. And saying yes to dream Arthur was as easy as breathing. “I didn't— I didn't think you were gay.”

Arthur turned Merlin's head towards him and gave him a deep, searching kiss. Merlin parted his lips and their tongues twisted together. Magic and heat spread through him, languid and smooth, as though it were happy and contented. Arthur's hand found Merlin's cock and as he wrapped his strong, firm fingers around it, Merlin felt sure he was going to fly apart. 

When they parted from the kiss, both breathless, Arthur asked, “That gay enough for you?” 

“Yeah,” panted Merlin, a little dazed from it all and not entirely sure he was completely awake yet. “That’ll do, I suppose.”

“You _suppose!_ ” Arthur growled in his ear. 

“Yeah,” said Merlin, huffing out a laugh. “Eight out of ten for gayness. Could be gayer.”

He could feel Arthur pressing his cock harder, more insistently, against Merlin’s back, his hand moving faster on Merlin’s cock. “I just snogged you and I’m jerking you off!” Arthur said indignantly. “How is that not 100% gay?”

He rolled Merlin onto his back and straddled him, before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close for another searching kiss. A deep thrill ran through Merlin at the aggressive possessiveness of Arthur’s actions, and as Merlin opened up, Arthur’s tongue proceeded to invade his mouth. Merlin felt too helpless and overwhelmed to be anything other than a very willing participant. Magic flared again through his body, setting it alight until he positively tingled with it. His hands scrabbled uselessly at Arthur’s chest as he realised that Arthur was shirtless, and he wondered if he’d been sharing a bed with a shirtless Arthur this whole time.

When they finally parted, Arthur grinned at Merlin—a true, honest smile, not one of the tight, polite smiles Merlin had grown accustomed to receiving. 

“So, what do I score now?” Arthur asked as they regained their breath. 

Merlin laughed a little, taking in Arthur and his beauty in the low light. He still felt dazed, but at least now he was fully awake. And yet, he was still unable to fully grasp what was happening. And _why_ it was happening. What had made Arthur take full leave of his senses like this? But Merlin decided it didn’t really matter all that much, so long as Arthur kept kissing him like that. Grasping at Arthur’s arms, Merlin brought him closer. 

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

Smiling against Merlin’s lips, Arthur did so. He smoothed his hand down Merlin’s chest, pushing up his T-shirt, clearly telegraphing his desire to see it come off. They parted for a few seconds for Merlin to yank the offending garment over his head, and he chucked it randomly somewhere behind them.

“Finally,” Arthur murmured as they returned to their kiss, mapping Merlin’s bare skin with his hands until they came to rest on Merlin’s hips. His lips followed in due course as he kissed his way along Merlin’s abdomen, giving a lick and nip to his stomach and hips as he eased Merlin’s pyjama bottoms down and off. 

Merlin hummed with pleasure. He ran his own hands across Arthur’s shoulders, enjoying the hard muscle that bulged and rippled under his touch, his stroked his way down Arthur’s sides and right down to his firm, toned stomach. 

Arthur’s eyes glinted dangerously in the dimly lit room, and Merlin swallowed. Everything was happening so quickly. But then again, hadn’t he and Arthur been careening towards this from the very beginning? He couldn’t really say he’d been expecting to wake up with Arthur draped all over him, but now he was naked and Arthur was looking at him as though he was about to devour him. And that might not be too far away from the truth. 

He watched with a dry mouth as Arthur moved off of the bed to remove his boxer shorts. He stood there for a moment, eyeing Merlin contemplatively. The moonlight that crept in through the gap in the curtain, giving him an ethereal silver glow, before he slowly, casually, almost predatorily sauntered back to the bed. 

“Liking what you see?” Arthur asked with a smirk.

Merlin raised a eyebrow in response and shrugged casually. “It’s all right.”

“Such insolence,” Arthur huffed, before his hands found their way back to Merlin’s hips and he dived into another kiss. Merlin carded a hand through Arthur’s hair, which was as soft as it looked, marvelling that this was even happening when he had been so sure that Arthur was either scared or disgusted by him being gay. 

As it turned out, he had been reading Arthur all wrong. Not that it was Merlin’s fault. Arthur had been such a damn puzzle—so closed off and unyielding. How was he supposed to know Arthur was actually into him? Or that he even liked men? The only time Arthur had ever opened up to Merlin had been when he’d been injured. He’d bared his soul to Merlin then, and had carried on at least acting like a human being from then onwards, rather than some kind of closed off, inaccessible—

“You’re thinking too much,” Arthur complained as he broke their kiss. “Just— think less, let it happen.”

“Can’t help it,” gasped Merlin, going up on his elbows as Arthur kissed down his chest. “I just— I’m a bit confused.”

“That’s funny, you didn’t seem confused when you were kissing that guy at the club,” Arthur commented acerbically, before he carried on down Merlin’s stomach. 

Realisation hit Merlin like a freight train. “Were you jealous?” he asked.

Arthur looked up and scowled at him. “Are we really having this conversation now?” he asked. 

“You were!” said Merlin triumphantly. “And all this time I thought that you hated me.” He paused for a moment, then asked timidly, “ _Did_ you hate me?” Because that was something Merlin felt he had to know. 

Arthur sat back on his heels and sighed.

“No, Merlin, I never hated you. Quite the opposite. I liked you. A lot. Too much. And I—” Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I couldn’t allow myself such a weakness. Not again.” His eyes darted back over to Merlin and flicked down to his lips, and Merlin felt his cock stir with interest again. “Not to mention how unprofessional it is to fancy the pants off your drop-dead gorgeous colleague.” 

Surprised, Merlin felt himself flushing, and he looked up at Arthur coyly. “Gorgeous?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, leaning forward to kiss his neck. “You heard me, Merlin. I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” He nipped lightly at Merlin’s neck and then traced the shell of his ear with his tongue. Merlin shivered deliciously in response. “I was afraid that, if I let you in…” Arthur carried on kissing down Merlin’s neck and nuzzled for a moment in the dip of his collarbone. “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself—from ravishing you. That you would consume my every thought.” 

“S-so what changed?” Merlin stuttered, squirming helplessly under Arthur’s ministrations.

“I realised that you consume them anyway. And that maybe, sometimes, love is worth that risk. I hadn’t planned to act on it. Not yet. Not whilst we were still working together. But I guess my subconscious won out over my self-restraint,” Arthur said. “I knew that I shouldn’t, but you were so close, you were impossible to resist. And I’m glad that I didn’t.” 

He ran the tip of his tongue over Merlin’s nipple, causing him to buck and cry out.

Arthur smirked at Merlin’s reaction and went to town, lathing, sucking, and biting at his nipple, whilst his free hand felt out the other one.

Merlin threw back his head, his eyes wide as he gulped for air and futilely tried to stop his hips from bucking up against Arthur’s body. His mind whirled with the fact that Arthur had used the 'L' word, but he put the thought away until later when he could give it his full attention. 

“S-so am I,” admitted Merlin. “I—I wanted you so badly.” 

Arthur leant forward and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s lips. “I realise this is all a bit sudden. Are you certain—”

“Arthur… Come on,” said Merlin, getting up on his elbow and pulling Arthur with him. “I can’t believe you’re being so posh and polite, even now. I think it’s rather obvious that I’m good with this, isn’t it?” He nodded his head to where his cock was pressing hard, trapped between Arthur’s body and his own. “And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this for ages. Even if you have been a massive prat.”

“Hey!” Arthur protested.

“Can always make it up to me though,” Merlin said, cocking his eyebrow and giving him a suggestive grin.

“Or maybe, you can make it up to _me_ for scaring me half to death last month…” Arthur said, smoothing his hands over Merlin’s abs. “Can’t believe how well you’ve healed. It’s incredible. Well, all of you is incredible… But I was sure you’d been bruised for months yet.” Arthur slid back down the bed, admiring as he explored his body with his hands. “Honestly, it took all I had to be professional and not put my hands on you like this when I was helping you wrap your ribs. And that morning back when we first started living together and I walked into the kitchen and you were in that towel…” Arthur groaned and bit at Merlin’s hip.

“You dropped a glass,” Merlin recalled.

“Well, yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting to be met by you, dripping wet, in nothing but a skimpy towel! It was almost enough to give a man a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Merlin said.

“No, you’re not.”

Merlin snorted. “You’re right,” he replied with a huge grin. “I’m not. And you know what? Since you have had such an eyeful of me—” Merlin pushed Arthur off of him and moved to straddle him. He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s time that I got to enjoy more of you.”

Arthur huffed a little with surprise at how swiftly Merlin had made the switch. “Just so you know?” Arthur said. “That eyebrow thing is NOT sexy.”

Bending his head to give Arthur a kiss of his own, Merlin laughed. “Yeah it is!” 

Arthur shook his head at him. “Don’t know why I like you.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, and then it was Arthur’s turn to raise his eyebrow at him nod his head to the side lasciviously in a clear indication of where he would like things to go. Merlin didn’t need any further hinting before pouncing on Arthur with an enthusiastic kiss as he enjoyed finally, finally being able to run his hands freely over his chest, shoulders, and stomach, which was the perfect combination of soft, yet firm. Merlin groaned into the kiss as he realised he was going to be able to see Arthur’s gorgeous, perfectly round arse, possibly as often as he wanted, if everything went well between them. And he wanted to see it a lot. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from where he had been scraping his fingers through Arthur’s amazing chest hair to wrap it around Arthur’s cock. There would be plenty of time to come back to explore the rest of Arthur later.

Arthur gasped and pulled Merlin closer by the hips as they battled for control of the kiss, Merlin started pumping his hand and Arthur rolled his hips into it. 

“What do you want to—?” Merlin began. “How should we—? Do you—?”

“Shhh,” said Arthur, placing a finger to his lips and rolling them back over so that he was on top. He slid away, returning with a condom and lube. Like some kind of sexual Boy Scout, Arthur was apparently always prepared.

“Did you plan this?” Merlin asked him. 

Arthur paused and cleared his throat as he got back on the bed. “Not planned… I thought about it. About what might happen if I let myself…” 

Merlin looked up at him with a soft smile and reached up to bring Arthur down to him. “I thought about it, too. It’s okay.” 

Arthur harrumphed. “Of course it is,” he said stiffly.

“So, are you gonna fuck me or what?” Merlin asked bluntly, breaking through the awkwardness. “Because I assume you didn’t come prepared for nothing, Mr Boy Scout.”

“Don’t knock the Boy Scouts. I’ll have you know that because of them I am proficient in over twenty different knots.” Arthur smirked.

“Oh, yeah?” said Merlin, meeting his smirk with one of his own. “I think you’ll have to prove that to me sometime.”

Arthur ran his hand along Merlin’s thighs and licked a broad stripe along the underside of his cock. “Count on it,” he said, and Merlin hissed under his breath when Arthur took him in hand and wrapped his lips around the head of his cock.

“Oh God!” 

Merlin dug his fingers into Arthur’s scalp as Arthur slid his lips down his length, bucking his hips. Arthur choked a little, though he didn’t let it put him off his rhythm by any means. Hastily, Merlin removed his hand from Arthur’s hair, but Arthur grasped at it and placed it back on his head, encouraging Merlin to be a little rougher than he would have usually intended for a first time with someone. 

Merlin thrust his hips experimentally, and seeing that Arthur not only took it, but seemed to be enjoying Merlin being rough with him, he lunged up a little faster, a little deeper. Heat and magic starting to journey south towards his groin. His legs began to tense and his cock throbbed. No, not yet. It was too soon. But this was _Arthur_ , and he was doing this incredible thing with his tongue... Merlin wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. He tugged sharply at Arthur’s hair.

“Arthur… I’m going to— I don’t want to— not yet,” he panted. 

Pulling off of him, Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you want me to…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin guided Arthur’s hand between his legs. He wanted Arthur to fuck him. He had been thinking, fantasizing, dreaming of this moment. And now that he knew that he could have it, he needed it. Arthur reached for the lube with his other hand and ripped the packet open with his teeth. 

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, or slow down, or—” he began, as he started liberally coating his fingers.

“Yes, yes, of course, just—”

“All right,” grumbled Arthur, as he pushed Merlin over to lie on his front. He leant close, murmuring into Merlin’s ear. “Are you ready, my love? Let me take care of you.” 

He pushed Merlin’s legs further apart and then shuffled between them. 

Merlin heart fluttered. Had Arthur just called him his love, or had he imagined it? He glanced over his shoulder at him to see Arthur looking and acting as he always had. “Did you just say…?”

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly at him, but his cheeks pinked as though he was embarrassed at the slip of his words and emotions.

“Look are we going to do this, or not?” he asked brusquely. 

“Yeah, yeah. Do it. I can take it.”

Merlin gasped a little as Arthur ran cold-slick fingers over his arse and down between his cheeks, seeking out the tight furl of muscle between them. When he found it, he circled it slowly, and Merlin shivered beneath him. 

“Arthur!” he whined.

“All right,” Arthur tutted. “Have a little patience, Merlin.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since the moment we met. I think I’ve been plenty patient, thanks!”

Merlin could practically feel Arthur purring with delight at that revelation. “Since the moment we met?” he asked. “I guess I better make sure that I live up to your expectations, then.”

He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s back as he gently pushed a finger inside, and Merlin let out a deep breath, trying to relax against the intrusion. Arthur moved his finger back and forth experimentally for a few strokes.

“More?” he asked, ever the gentleman.

“Yeah, more,” Merlin agreed.

Happily obliging him, Arthur ran a hand soothingly up and down Merlin’s side as he added another digit. 

“More!” Merlin demanded, almost immediately. Arthur slapped him sharply on the arse, making Merlin jump, and he bit his lip so as not to give Arthur the satisfaction of yelping with surprise.

“Not yet. I’m not going to rush this. We have plenty of time, and I intend to enjoy it. You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about this for a while.”

Merlin smiled as he laid his head on his arms, and decided to let Arthur have his way for now. “Tell me about it,” he said, a little bit breathless as Arthur worked his fingers inside him.

“Mmm, maybe I’ll show you instead,” Arthur murmurmed, crooking his fingers and making Merlin moan. 

“God, do that again.” 

Arthur obliged him, and leaned over him to kiss the back of his neck as he did so. Merlin trembled beneath him and bit back a groan. “Mmm, that’s good. What else have you been imagining?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” replied Arthur, sitting back up and pulling his fingers out of Merlin’s hole.

Merlin whined at the back of his throat in protest.

Arthur chuckled. “So needy!”

“Fuck off,” Merlin retorted, glaring at him over his shoulder.

With a smirk, Arthur felt around on the bed covers for the condom. “Oh, I will.”

Merlin snorted and wiggled his arse. “Come on then. Show me what you’ve got.”

Tearing the packet open, Arthur took a few moments to carefully roll the condom on.

“You better be ready for this, Emrys.”

“If you’d been listening, you’d remember I’ve been ready for this for ages,” said Merlin, making his voice sound bored.

Arthur snarled under his breath and pressed himself up against Merlin’s hole, taking him quicker and rougher than Merlin had been expecting. He let out a little cry, and Arthur stilled.

“Are you okay?” he asked Merlin anxiously, leaning over him.

“I won’t be if you don’t get on with it. I might just die of blue balls here,” retorted Merlin, tilting his arse and trying to get Arthur to move further inside him. “Come on, Arthur!”

Pressing a kiss to Merlin’s face, Arthur hauled Merlin up onto all fours and held a steadying hand on the small of his back and he pressed in further. Merlin hung his head between his shoulders and breathed deeply, relaxing his muscles. God, Arthur was definitely quite sizable. Arthur rubbed his hand up and down Merlin’s back, and Merlin nodded to him, glad that Arthur hadn’t asked yet again if he was all right.

Once he was all the way seated, Arthur started to pull out and then push back in a few times, as though he was testing the waters. Merlin bit his lip. This was good. But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not really. He wanted rougher, more desperate, more passionate. 

But then Arthur started to pick up the pace, and pounded into him hard and fast. And Merlin began to cry out in a staccato of ah, ah, ah’s. Arthur’s pace was punishing. He pulled Merlin towards him, to sit back in his lap as he thrust up and up at an angle that made Merlin gasp out loud and roll his head back onto Arthur’s shoulder. From his position, he could help to control their rhythm, and he gripped Arthur’s thighs as he raised and lowered himself, making things even better.

“Arthur. Arthur!” he cried out.

“Ah, fuck. Shit, Merlin,” said Arthur, through teeth gritted at the effort.

He slid his arm around Merlin’s waist, using the prominent line of his hip bones to guide him to Merlin’s groin and cock, which he eagerly wrapped his fingers around. They shifted positions again, so that Merlin was back on his knees and Arthur was on top, allowing him to drive into Merlin with renewed speed and energy, so hard that Merlin could barely breathe as the air was knocked out of him with each sharp thrust.

“Yeah, that’s right,” purred Arthur behind him. “Finally got you to shut up.”

“I— Fu— God—” Merlin stuttered, his words stolen from him at every lunge. Arthur’s hand worked him with equal intensity and Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his body quiver and spasm as he tried his best to hold back.

Arthur leant forward, pressing himself along Merlin’s back and placing his arms either side of his as they fucked. “Always knew you’d look—look so pretty on my cock,” he panted.

And Merlin’s body bowed and locked as his orgasm hit him like a wave and he came, mouth open but without a gasp, spilling hot and wet over the sheets. 

He felt Arthur come not long afterwards, after a few erratic thrusts, and then he lay heavy on Merlin’s back as they both tried to regain their breath. 

Merlin’s arms started to shake and buckle beneath him. “Arthur,” he whined. “Get off, you’re heavy.” 

Shaking Arthur off, Merlin shoved him over a bit so that he didn’t have to lie in the wet spot.

“Oh, God. That was…”

“Yeah,” agreed Arthur, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

They lay there for sometime, both basking in the afterglow. 

“So,” began Merlin, breaking the silence. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. He had to ask, before he became too nervous. He was desperate to know the answer before he got in too deep. Well, not too deep; he was already in too deep where Arthur was concerned. But he had to know whether or not he was going to walk away from this with his heart still intact. “Where exactly does this leave us?”

Arthur sighed and cracked open his eyes to peer at him, and Merlin’s heart flip-flopped and sank in his chest. Did Arthur regret it? Did he want to call it a mistake, a one-off, a one-night stand and be done with it? Merlin wasn’t sure that he would be able to take it, living and working with Arthur having had this and knowing he would never have him like this again, intimate and vulnerable and trusting, was more than he could bear.

“Not sure. Is boyfriends too much?” Arthur asked. 

Merlin was pretty sure his heart had just exploded, and he wasn’t sure that he could breathe, choked as he was with emotion. Had Arthur… had he said boyfriends? 

“Boyfriends?” said Merlin faintly.

“If you’ll have me. Though I can’t help but think that we’ve gone about things the wrong way, what with living together and reaching first base without ever having been out on a date.”

A smile bloomed on Merlin’s face, so big that it hurt his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He pounced on Arthur and gave him a deep kiss before pulling away. “All right, then.”

Smiling with amusement, Arthur said, “Try not to sound too excited about it.”

Merlin rolled onto his back, still smiling giddily to himself. “Well... I can’t say that it’s going to be easy, dating a clotpole who acts as though he has a stick up his arse most of the time. Although, now I know you’re gay—ten out of ten, by the way—I guess that kind of makes sense. I’ll just have to extract it and replace it with something bett—oof! Oi!” Merlin protested, rubbing his side where Arthur had jabbed him.

“Fuck off,” Arthur grumbled, but it didn’t have any heat. 

“Already did. But wouldn’t say no to another round,” Merlin quipped.

“I’ll show you another round!” said Arthur, rolling onto him and giving him a kiss. 

Merlin laughed and kissed him back, giving as good as he got, his heart overwhelmed with something that felt a lot like love. Like they had always been in love. Even though his head told him that it was much too early to tell.

***

The morning after was surprisingly pleasant. Merlin had been worried it would be filled with misgivings and regrets on Arthur’s, and possibly his own, behalf. But as he’d awoken to the light drifting in through the partially drawn curtains, caressing Arthur’s sleeping face, Merlin hadn’t been able to help but watch on as he slept. He’d looked so peaceful and so unlike the Arthur he’d become familiar with over the past few months. He looked younger, too, as though his dream-like state allowed him to shed all the worries and extra years that he carried with him during his waking hours.

A feeling of deep contentment filled him. There was something so right and so familiar about this, as though he had done this very thing a hundred times before, and yet, that was impossible. It had been their first time, and Merlin really hadn’t envisioned it going the way it had. He hadn’t really believed that it could happen at all.

“Take a picture,” murmured Arthur, his voice horse with disuse. “It’ll last longer.”

Merlin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Good morning,” he said in response.

Arthur smiled, his eyes still closed. “It is,” he replied. He slowly blinked his eyes open and focused them on Merlin’s face. “So was last night.”

“Yeah,” agreed Merlin with a laugh. 

“Shower? Or round three?” Arthur asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Round three _in_ the shower?” Merlin suggested.

“Oh, good call,” Arthur said, whipping back the covers and clambering over the small bed to the other side of their room. “First one in gets to choose what we do!” He called over his shoulder.

“Hey!” exclaimed Merlin, rushing after him, though perhaps not as quickly as he could have done as he proceeded to enjoy the view.

“ _Mer_ lin!” called Arthur sternly from inside the bathroom. And Merlin felt himself yanked inside the room as he turned the corner.

***

Sophia sat, quiet for once, inside the vehicle, her head resting gently on Gwen’s shoulder. Gwen smiled nervously and patted her hand.

They were all nervous. The big day was finally here, and though they had prepared for it as best they could, Merlin couldn’t help but feel a churning in his gut as his breakfast briefly threatened a re-appearance. He looked over at Arthur, who was calm and immaculately put together, somehow managing to look both smart and professional, yet able to pass as casual in dark jeans, a white T-shirt and a green bomber jacket, a pair of sunglasses hooked neatly on the neckline of his jacket. 

Merlin’s eyes traced the long lines of Arthur’s neck, remembering how he had lavished kisses there during their shared shower and lamenting the fact that he hadn’t been able to mark it as his own. At least, not yet, but one of these days… Merlin had plans for that neck. He followed the tendons of Arthur’s neck and admired the sharp, clean cut of his freshly-shaven jaw, remembering how it had slackened when Arthur came. 

Arthur cleared his throat subtly and shifted in his seat, startling Merlin out of his daydream. He gave Merlin a sharp, warning look before turning away to watch the streets pass them by. Though he was thankful Arthur had brought him back to the present, Merlin was a little embarrassed at his mental slip up. He hadn’t meant to get caught up in his own thoughts. From now on, he would give the job his full attention.

“So,” he began, addressing Sophia and Gwen. “How are you both feeling? Looking forward to it?”

Gwen smiled warmly and ran her fingers through Sophia’s long blonde hair. “I think it’s great that we’ve been given such an honour, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit nervous. So many people are going to be watching us! I don’t know how you do it, Soph.”

Sophia perked up a little, lifting her head from Gwen’s shoulder.

“Because I have no choice. But that doesn’t mean I’m not feeling sick to my stomach. What if everyone hates me? What if they boo me? What if they think I’m faking it?”

Gwen squeezed her hand. 

“It will all be fine, you’ll see,” Merlin told her. “No one will hate or boo you. And those who say you’re faking it can piss off.” Merlin ignored Arthur’s glare at using such language in front of royalty. “You’ve got me and Arthur here to look out for you. Just relax and enjoy yourselves. You deserve it. You deserve to be here as much as the next queer person.” Merlin found his eyes flicking over towards Arthur involuntarily, before he schooled himself. 

He wasn’t sure how out Arthur was; they hadn’t really had much time to discuss those kinds of things yet, their mouths having been rather well occupied in other ways. But it could be that Arthur wasn’t really out to anyone, and if that was the case, Merlin certainly wasn’t going to be the one to out him. The one thing they had agreed on was that whilst they were at work, they were to treat each other the same as they always had so that no one would suspect anything.

“You’re right,” Sophia agreed, sitting up straight and giving herself a shake. “I do deserve this. So, how was your night last night? Did you two lovebirds enjoy sharing a room?”

Merlin spluttered, almost choking on his own spit. “What?” he managed to ask. 

Sophia and Gwen burst out laughing, Sophia grasping at Gwen’s coat. “Oh my God, Merlin. Your face!” she gasped. “You should see it. You’re too easy.”

Out the corner of his eye, Merlin caught Arthur smirking at him and shot him a glare. “Oh, you can shut up,” he said warningly.

“It’s true,” Arthur agreed.

“See? See?” Sophia giggled. “Arthur knows. Arthur agrees with us.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and looked out of the window with a huff. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up,” he grumbled. 

“Cheer up,” Sophia said, nudging him from her place on the back bench of the car with her foot. “We’re almost there!”

***

The parade route was busy, as expected. The whole city was thrumming with people cheering and singing, and filled with that happy hubbub of excitement that would often exude from a big crowd of overexcited, flamboyant, intoxicated people. Merlin looked around anxiously. This was a big event, and there was so much going on all at once, with too many variables to predict anything for certain. His magic was on high alert, and he scanned the faces in the crowds around them as Arthur waited with the princess in the armoured car. One of the faces was familiar, and he frowned with annoyance. How had _he_ managed to get in? 

The car window lowered next to him. 

“Trouble?” Arthur asked him. 

Merlin gave him a small appreciative smile. “Nothing I can’t take care of,” he replied. “Just a persistent little bugger who’s well known to us. Done _just_ enough to make everyone fed up with him, but skirted within the letter of the law so that we can’t touch him.” Merlin squinted and noticed that the man was not alone. There were a few other people surrounding him, carrying placards with messages written on them. “Looks like he might have brought a few friends, too. But don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. We’ve built up a rapport over the years.”

“Just, be careful, all right? Remember last time you went off on your own.”

“I will, don’t worry. I know how to handle Mordred.”

With a nod of acceptance, Arthur turned back to Sophia and Gwen, who were still chatting merrily in the backseat.

Merlin made his way over to the barrier, making eye contact with the dark-haired man, who stared back at him with baleful blue eyes. Merlin nodded at him, making clear that he was here to see him.

“Well, well, well. Mr Emrys!” the man crowed, grinning to his friends around him before turning back to Merlin. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your _esteemed_ royal company?”

“I’m not a royal, Mordred, you know that.” 

“Yeah, sure. Born and raised in rural Wales before going to London for university. Worked for the 6th Earl of Orkney before moving on to work for the royals as bodyguard for Sophia Windsor.”

“I don’t need you to recite my C.V. to me, thanks.”

The people around Mordred all made ‘ooo’ noises and Merlin rolled his eyes as Mordred turned towards them. 

“See? This is what we’re dealing with! The elite, working for the elite!” 

Merlin snorted. He was hardly elite. As Mordred himself had pointed out, he’d grown up in a small village in Wales that still didn’t have high speed internet, the son to a single mother who was able to bring in just enough money to keep food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. 

“They don’t care about us! They don’t care about the average everyday man! What do they even _do_ for our country? What do they do? Does anyone even know what their function is, other than to suck up our hard-earned tax money so that they can pay people like Emrys here and live in the laps of luxury?”

“Mordred,” said Merlin, his voice low but firm. “What do you think you’re playing at? What are you even doing here? On today of all days. What has the princess ever done to you, huh?”

Mordred raised his eyebrows at Merlin. It was deceptive how a man could look that innocent, yet be such a vicious spitfire. He sobered up and looked Merlin square in the face, stern and devoid of emotion. 

“I am exercising my right to protest,” he told Merlin, as Merlin knew he would. “Sophia Windsor had no right to be here, invading _our_ space, sucking all the attention away from our cause, making a mockery of all our struggles and co-opting our celebrations as queers. All because she fancied snogging a girl to be able to giggle with her friends about it later! And what are they doing at those bourgeois homes that you lot call palaces? Are they _forcing_ that poor Gwen girl to stay with her so that they can save face? They are, aren’t they? I can see it in your face. I mean, they didn’t want a a big gay scandal in the first place, did they? Let alone a gay fling! So they had to legitimise it somehow. How much are they paying her to ‘stay’ with Sophia and play this little drama out, huh?” He took a breath.

“Our terms are simple. Take Sophia away. She is not welcome here. And in turn, we won’t cause any trouble or make any fuss. We will just celebrate the rights that society has deigned to give us, pitiful though they are, as,” he used air quotes, “‘free’ citizens of this country. And if you don’t? Well, we’ll just have to make sure that our voices are heard, and we’ll do our best to make your lives a living hell.”

Curling his fists in anger, Merlin pushed back against the magic buzzing in his skin. He needed to calm down. Mordred was just a kid, mouthing off to his buddies to make himself look big and cool. There had been people like him who liked to mouth off the royals before and there would be people who would continue to do so, ready to step neatly in to take his place when he got bored of it. Dealing with people like Mordred was part and parcel of being a security for a member of the royal family. Merlin needed to cool off and relax. 

It never usually bothered him. But this time was different. Mordred had no right to decide who did or didn’t belong here. Just because Sophia was newly exploring who she was as a person, did not mean that _Mordred_ , of all people, got to decide whether she deserved to be part of this community.

“The Princess Sophia won’t be going anywhere but along the parade route. She doesn’t have to answer to the likes of _you_. You don’t get to judge if she’s queer enough to be here, according to your personal standards.”

“See, see?” Mordred pounced, pointing out words to the crowd. “The _Princess_ doesn’t have to answer to us peasants. She doesn’t—”

“No,” interrupted Merlin. “I meant she doesn’t have to answer to LGBT people like you, who want to gate-keep and decide who can and can’t come to Pride. _I_ , for one, welcome her to _our_ community and I would do so _regardless_ of her gender or sexual orientation.” Merlin looked at the young man with a glint in his eye.

A look of realisation washed over Mordred’s face as he understood what Merlin was implying. “What? _You_? And they let you look after her? God, you’re pathetic. The British monarchy is nothing but another silo of institutionalised homophobia inflicted on this country, and you’re working for them!”

“Enough!” snapped Merlin, feeling his magic surging forward yet again. Not that Merlin could blame it—he half-wanted to strangle the kid himself. “Mordred, either you and your friends move on, or I will make you all move on.”

Mordred sneered and turned his nose up at him. “Fine. We’ll go. But we will be watching, and we will make ourselves known. Enjoy having your rights denied, being oppressed, and getting trodden all over by systemic prejudice and discrimination.”

Slowly, Mordred and his fellow protestors gathered their things and vacated the area. Once they were all gone, Merlin made his way back to the car and knocked at the window.

“All clear!” he told Arthur, who then radioed on to the rest of the security team that they were ready to leave the car and greet the people. People who had gathered and were waiting eagerly to greet the princess, the United Kingdom’s first openly gay royal, because of the affinity that they felt for her. Merlin felt a surge of pride and warmth fill his chest knowing that it was Sophia, his little Sophia, who was changing and re-molding the monarchy from within. 

Arthur opened the door and exited the vehicle. Merlin met his eyes, and they shared a secret smile. Merlin had no doubt that, like him, Arthur was thinking back to their night together and all that was still to come for them, and he was pleased and honoured to be protecting Princess Sophia with Arthur by his side.

Sophia was pale, her normally flawless skin tinged a slight green. She looked more nervous than Merlin had ever seen her, her normally bright face drained of its usual happiness and cheer. She turned to Gwen and pecked her on the lips. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Of course,” beamed Gwen, linking hands with her. “You go out there and show them how it’s done.” 

They pressed their foreheads together for a moment, and then Sophia took a deep breath. She extended her hand to Merlin to help her out of the car. He smiled kindly at her and she returned it, the epitome of fake it ‘til you make it.

“I’m proud of you,” he told her in a low voice.

She squeezed his hand. “Not as proud as I am of you,” she said, her eyes flicking over to Arthur with a knowing look.

Merlin rolled his eyes fondly at her. He should have known better than to expect that Sophia wouldn’t notice anything amiss between the two of them.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded.

Merlin stepped aside to let Sophia get out of the car. Instantly, they were all blinded by a sea of flash photography as the world’s press started snapping away at her. She smiled widely and gave them a small wave before she walked over to group of people, some of whom were calling out to her, others waiting anxiously for her to approach. She shook hands with them all and made small talk whilst she accepted small gifts and flowers of every shade, most sporting some kind of LGBT colours or ribbons. She passed them all off to Merlin and Arthur to deal with, as per normal protocol. She took selfies with excited, crying people, but graciously declined to sign anything—royals never gave out autographs. 

A small girl leaning over the barrier offered her a bear wearing lesbian pride colours and Princess Sophia’s face lit up as she accepted it and gave it a cuddle. Merlin knew the press would love that shot. She bent down and spoke with the little girl, and Merlin made sure to take a step or two closer, unwilling to be too far away. He kept a sharp eye on the people close by. Arthur hung back a bit, having passed off Sophia’s gifts to other people, and watched the crowd overall, as well as the groups of people who were milling around nearby. This was a closed area, with limited access. But it was still a hub of activity. The start of the parade was one of the few places where they would be able to control most of their surroundings.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Merlin was glad to see there were no signs of Mordred or any of his friends. They must had decided that it wouldn’t be worth their time to be detained and possibly arrested. Merlin definitely wasn’t going to rule them out as a potential source trouble, however. In fact, he was sure he’d spot them at _some_ point along the parade route, trying their best to ruin things in some way. 

“My mummies brought me here!” Merlin heard the child tell Sophia. Two smiling women were standing close behind her, holding hands. 

“Then you are very lucky indeed!” replied Sophia brightly. “For you have twice as much love in your life, and there is nothing quite like a mother’s love.”

Merlin knew that the brightness was forced and behind her smiles and happiness, Sophia hid the pain of her loss from almost everyone around her. Her mother had died in childbirth with a second child. Prince Aulfric and the royal household had been devastated at losing child and mother both. They all tried their best to compensate, but Sophia still felt that loss as strongly now as she had done when she was a young girl. Merlin thought about his own mother, and he realised that Sophia was right. The love of a mother was truly special. He had been lucky to have the most supportive mother imaginable and his heart ached for his charge once more. 

He snuck a glance over at Arthur, wondering what his mother was like. Was she golden-haired and blue-eyed, like him? What traits did he get from her? Had he inherited that stubborn, iron-will of his from her? Or perhaps the dedication and sense of duty to his job? The kind, vulnerable soul that he kept tucked away under his strong exterior? Merlin longed to find out all these things for himself. And he hoped that he would now that he and Arthur were starting to figure out where they stood with one another. There was so much that was still a mystery about Arthur. And yet, Merlin felt that he knew him, all the same.

“What’s your name?” Sophia asked the girl.

“Kara,” said the girl.

Sophia reached forward, putting Merlin’s nerves on edge as he almost instinctively leapt towards her and the girl. He halted himself and relaxed back when he realised Sophia was giving her a tight hug.

“Then I will call this beautiful teddy bear, Kara, in honour of you,” the princess told Kara with a genuinely delighted smile. “And thank you.”

Soon they had to leave and get Sophia to the official beginning of the parade route so that she could get on the float for her university. 

They met up with Gwen there as planned; she was going to be at Sophia’s side as they waved to the crowd. Her first official-unofficial event, as it were, given that she was not yet a royal and might never be one, depending on how things went for the two of them. 

In Merlin’s opinion, it was too early to tell if this would be a forever relationship, but it certainly looked as though Gwen and Sophia were smitten with each other, as evidenced by the plethora of nose rubbing, hand holding and kisses Merlin had already witnessed in the past few weeks. They were so sweet it was sickening. But the royal family only dealt in certainties, at least in public, so for the time being, Gwen would be acknowledged as Sophia’s girlfriend, but she would not be invited to attend any events in an official capacity on behalf of the monarchy.

“Gwen!” exclaimed Sophia as soon as she saw her, rushing to give her a hug. “Are you ready, my love?” 

Merlin felt himself blush hotly, all the way to the tip of his ears and down to his chest, and his heart fluttered as he remembered Arthur murmuring those very words into his ear the night before. And as he shifted, he was very much reminded of what they’d shared together. 

“Absolutely,” Gwen said. Her hair was tied back with a pansexual pride ribbon, and she held a rainbow flag in her hand with a joyful smile on her face. 

“Merlin, are you quite all right?” asked Sophia with concern. “You’ve gone positively red all over.” 

Arthur gave him a sly glance with the barest hint of a proud smirk, pulling his aviators off his T-shirt to put them on. Prat. Of course he’d be proud of Merlin’s discomfort, both physical and emotional. 

Fortunately, the moment passed quickly, though it felt like a lot longer, and Arthur no longer looked at him. His eyes instead were ever eagerly taking in his surroundings. Unlike Merlin, his thoughts never distracted him from the job at hand for more than a moment. At least Merlin knew the reason behind Arthur’s intense devotion to his work now, and he understood and respected it. He could tell that the thought of failing again was always at the back of Arthur’s mind, and he was steadfast in his refusal to allow it or anything like it to happen again. 

Without Arthur’s eyes on him, Merlin was able to breathe again.

“I’m fine,” he managed to choke out. 

Sophia looked at Merlin with narrowed eyes, and quirked an eyebrow at the little exchange between himself and Arthur, which had left him redder still.

“Oh my goodness!” she squealed excitedly, looking rapidly between them. Merlin couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably at the scrutiny. “Did you two...? Are you…? Did you actually…?”

“I—” started Merlin.

“We need to go,” interrupted Arthur, holding a finger to his ear to listen to the radio. 

Merlin shook himself out of his thoughts and immediately switched into protection mode, magic tingling at his fingertips just in case. Flanked by Merlin and Arthur, Gwen and the Princess Sophia made their way onto a float. Sophia was enthusiastically greeted by friends from her university course and the LGBT society. A band ahead of them was playing jaunty music and most of the people were dancing. Arthur stood stoically, not reacting. Merlin was glad that he knew the truth about Arthur now, otherwise his old suspicions that Arthur was not entirely comfortable with the idea of someone being gay would have come roaring to the surface. Now he knew better.

It took some time before they got moving, and all the while both the crowd and Sophia’s friends grew more and more excited, soaking in the atmosphere and the chance to just be themselves in a safe space where there was no hatred or disapproval. No one here looked twice at the fact that a man with a crew cut was making out with a man in drag, or that two middle-aged women were holding each other with drinks in their hands. And many other people were celebrating in their own way besides, all dazzling and colourful and glamourous. Merlin had forgotten how risque people could get at Pride sometimes. 

Alcohol was banned on the floats and for the participants who were walking the routes, but it flowed freely amongst the party-goers, and that made Merlin nervous. Alcohol lead to people behaving unpredictably, and he hated to think that anyone would attempt anything untoward at such a vibrant celebration of diversity, love and acceptance, but they couldn’t rule it out. They couldn’t rule anything out. Not with all the hate mail that they’d been receiving over Sophia and Gwen.

As he watched Sophia with her friends and the people on the street, a part of Merlin longed to be down there among them, as he had been back when he was younger. It was years since he’d last gone to Pride; he’d been too busy protecting Sophia most of the time. But he was glad to be here today, on the precipice of a relationship that really felt like it might be something special. 

As part of their plan for the event, Merlin and Arthur had agreed to take turns, one of them patrolling the float and examining the crowds, whilst the other stayed with Sophia and Gwen. When it came time for them to switch places, Merlin looked at Sophia in horror.

“Arthur!” he hissed. “What do you think you’re doing letting her dress like that?”

Arthur just shrugged. “It’s Pride. I thought we were supposed to be letting the princess enjoy herself.”

Sophia was wearing a Pride flag draped around her shoulders, rainbow paint and glitter smudged on her cheeks, and a paper crown in lesbian pride colours adorned her head. She waved enthusiastically at the crowds, who were screaming and reaching and calling out to her in return.

Merlin gently took Sophia aside, leading her away by the arm, and spoke quietly and urgently with her.

“Sophia, what do you think you’re playing at? We agreed to a flag, and nothing else. You _do_ know what the palace and your father will do to me for letting you get decked out in all of this, don’t you? They’ll say I allowed you to make a spectacle of yourself! You’ll never be allowed to come again.” 

“Exactly,” she snapped, pulling her arm away. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that after university I am going to be expected to be demure and composed and fucking delightfully polite to everyone I meet? This is my _one chance_ to be my true self, and I will be _damned_ if I am going to allow the likes of you, my father, and all those fucking old men at the palace ruin this for me. I did what they asked me to. I played the good little heterosexual princess, just waiting for a man to sweep me off my feet. I dated a couple of the boys they introduced me to hoping we’d decide that we were a suitable match. But I can’t do that anymore, Merlin. I can’t! It’s bad enough that I will have to express my sexuality in the way that they want for the rest of my life. Please just let me have this one day!”

Merlin sighed and pinched his nose. She was right of course, Sophia usually was. She had always been an unusually bright child, right from when he’d first met her at twelve-years-old, made wise beyond her years because of her privileged upbringing and education. 

“Oh, Sophia,” he said, drawing her in for a hug. “Of course, you’re right. You go out there and have the best day of your life. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Sophia squeezed him tightly and then pulled him back towards the edge of the float with her. “And don’t you worry about Father. I won’t let him fire you. Now come on, it’s your turn,” she added, with a wicked glint in her eyes.

***

If Merlin had thought the atmosphere was crazy when they were on the float, it was nothing compared to when Princess Sophia got down to march with others along the route. The air felt charged with expectation, and Merlin’s magic bristled beneath his skin, as though desperate to get out. Merlin bit his lips and made sure to be extra vigilant. He used his earpiece to talk with Arthur, who was further down the street and had somehow managed to remain completely untouched by Sophia’s artistic attempts—unlike Merlin, who now sported two rainbow flags on his face, one on each cheek. 

“Everything good over there?” he asked.

“All good,” came back Arthur’s voice in his ear. “The facepaint suits you, by the way.”

Merlin sent him a fierce scowl as Arthur got closer, moving up the street towards him. “Shut up.”

The parade stopped frequently, and the princess took the pauses in between walking as a chance to speak to people at the side of the street, her face genuinely happy and full of colour. Everything seemed fine. Just the usual Pride shenanigans that Merlin had expected. A few guys who were shirtless, some who were practically naked (though none of them could hold a candle to Arthur, in his opinion), and almost everyone with a drink, and yet still he couldn’t shake the feeling of doom that tickled down his spine.

Then Arthur’s voice crackled in his ear again. “Looks like we might have some trouble. Draw in,” he ordered, signalling to the rest of the security detail that were hidden amongst the onlookers.

Searching the crowds, Merlin noticed them immediately. The all too familiar protest signs from ‘Republic’, a well-known protest group campaigning for the abolition of the monarchy, signalled their presence. They all started chanting together, and Merlin was instantly on high alert, while Arthur hurriedly moved Sophia on from that part of the group. 

That was when Merlin spotted him. He was sure he had been looking at that same spot only moments before—he didn’t know how he could have missed him. But there, right at the barrier, stood Mordred, a determined look on his face. A wave of panic surged through Merlin, and his stomach dropped as he noticed the glint of metal in his hand.

“Arthur!” he yelled out, his hand and magic reaching out towards Arthur and Sophia.

But it was too late. Arthur shoved Sophia to the side and away from the crowd, but Mordred aimed his knife directly at Arthur’s chest. Arthur staggered backwards, as if he had been unbalanced by the attack, and the knife clattered to the ground. Sophia was screaming and tugging anxiously at his arm, but he pushed her away from him.

“Run,” Arthur bellowed, before flipping himself over the barrier to give chase to Mordred.

The young man had had a decent headstart on him. He shoved people out of his way, left, right, and center, but it was difficult to make a quick escape in a panicked crowd who knew something had happened, even if they couldn’t figure out exactly what. It was obvious Mordred was being pursued, and people started to part and clear the way for their chase. 

Merlin drew Sophia over towards him and called for help with his ear piece.

“Sophia, are you okay?” he asked her anxiously, looking her up and down for any signs of harm.

“Yes, yes,” she answered through tears. “But Arthur—”

One of the royal security officers rushed over. “Geraint, get the princess to safety,” Merlin told him.

“Of course,” said Geraint. “This way, Your Highness.”

Then Merlin was hot on Arthur’s heels, hopping over the barrier and making his way after them. His magic tingled in his fingertips, ready for him to use. And it would be so easy to put a stop to all this, to yank Mordred back or make him trip. But he couldn’t use magic. Not here, not yet. There were too many eyes on them, too much technology. It was more than likely someone was filming this. And besides, there was just too much going on to be accurate. As soon as they had got away from the crowds, and he knew that they had some privacy, he would be able to use it safely and stop Mordred. 

Mordred dashed along the street, pulling over innocent vendor stands as he went. Merlin caught up with Arthur, who was starting to slow, and they both jumped, dodging the items that scattered across the pavement. Merlin saw Mordred run into a side alley. They had to get there. They had to stop him. Merlin had waited for a long time for Mordred to reveal his true colours. There was no way he was going to let him get away now. If he did, Merlin would have surely failed in his duties to ensure that the princess was safe. 

He grabbed Arthur by the jacket.

“Come on, Arthur,” he panted. “Keep up. Faster!”

But Arthur had started dragging his feet, and he kept stumbling, his breathing heavy as he fell further and further behind.

“Come on!” Merlin called angrily over his shoulder. Arthur could do better than this. They had to get Mordred. They must. “What’s wrong with you? We’re losing him!”

Merlin reached out his hand, intending to use magic to pull Mordred off balance, to force him to the ground. But Mordred skidded to a halt ahead of him. He turned around and ducked his head towards Merlin. His eyes flashed with a familiar yellow-gold, and Merlin felt a strong push of magic which sent him sprawling backwards, knocking him clean off his feet. He slammed to the ground with a heavy thud. Groaning, he rubbed both his back and head, which had taken a glancing blow, and by the time he got to his feet, Mordred was gone. 

Mordred had magic. Wow, that sure changed things. If Merlin had known, he wouldn’t have let Arthur give chase in the first place. He would have gone after Mordred on his own. 

Speaking of Arthur... Where was he?

“Arthur?”

Turning around Merlin saw Arthur faltering as he arrived at the entrance of the alleyway, lurching to one side before leaning heavily against the wall. 

“Arthur?”

Merlin was at his side in an instant, and Arthur slumped, sliding down the wall to the ground. His eyes were closed, his face white and drawn. His chest was heaving and his breathing laboured from something more than their pursuit; he was gulping down air, as though he was struggling to breathe. Merlin hurriedly pressed his fingers to Arthur’s neck to check his pulse. It took him a second to find it, fluttering away beneath his fingertips. Arthur cracked his eyes open, and there was a faint, fond smile on his face. 

“Arthur? Come on, you’ve got to help me. You’re the one who’s almost a doctor. What’s wrong?” 

Arthur pulled a hand away from his chest, completely coated in red. Blood. Merlin felt sick at the sight of it, and the strangest feeling of deja vu washed over him. “I’m sorry,” Arthur croaked.

Merlin’s mind was suddenly assaulted with such a deluge of memories that he almost fell over from the force of them. He glanced up and saw Arthur’s face. His eyes traced it and took in every detail, his crooked teeth, sharp jaw, and dark blonde hair, the clear blue eyes, and the bump of his perfect nose. He _knew_ this face. He loved this face. He had loved this face for so long, waiting and waiting, hoping and praying to the Gods that he would see Arthur again. How could he ever have forgotten? His magic sang to him. Arthur. _His Arthur_ again. 

Dying. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t lose Arthur for a second time. 

Merlin pressed his hand hard against the wound to apply pressure, his first aid training kicking in. With his other hand he tapped Arthur’s face. “Arthur? Come on now. Wake up. Arthur!”

Prising his eyes open, Arthur looked at him, his face as pale and sallow as it had been all those centuries ago. With bloodless lips Arthur managed to croak out, “Merlin? It’s really you?” He looked at Merlin the same way as he always used to. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Arthur. I’m here,” Merlin replied eagerly. “You have to hang on, okay? It’s going to be fine. It’ll all be fine.”

Arthur slumped over into Merlin’s arms, his body weighing heavily against Merlin.

Pushing him upright, Merlin murmured, “No.” He held Arthur’s face, pressing his forehead against his. “No, no, no. Not again. No. I won’t lose you. Not again. Arthur, listen to me.”

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered again. “I— It’s too late.”

Urgently, Merlin pressed his hand back against Arthur’s wound. He screwed his eyes shut and readied his magic, calling to the very heart of it, and then pushed with all his might. He murmured words that he hadn’t said in centuries. Words that, until a seconds ago, he didn’t even know that he knew.

 _“Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!”_

The words rolled off Merlin’s tongue and he felt the hot surge of magic rushing through his body, pouring out through his hands as he pushed it deep into Arthur’s wound.

Arthur didn’t react, and he was still losing an alarming amount of blood.

Merlin racked his brain for another spell. As he far as he could recall, he’d never been that good at healing spells in the past. It had always been a personal failing. In Camelot, Gaius had said he didn’t have the patience for it. After he had said goodbye to Arthur, once he had found himself able to function again, he had sought out the druids to study with them, and he had learned to make at least some of the basic healing enchantments work. But this wound was way beyond the reach of any of those spells, and way beyond Merlin’s abilities as a healer.

But he had been waiting centuries for Arthur to return. Surely that was long enough! Surely fate would not be so cruel as to take him from Merlin again when they had only just been reunited. He had done his time waiting. He had gone above and beyond his part in this bargain. He had been patient to a fault, even if he had eventually resorted to a memory charm so that he could live a normal, untormented life. 

He remembered that day now. The first time that he had decided to reset his memories, so that he wouldn’t have to live with the hopeless, endless wait that had slowly been changing him, sucking the joy from everything around him. Arthur wouldn’t have wanted that for him, he knew that.

 _“Þurhhæle dolgbenn,_ ” he commanded. _“Ahlúttre þá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd!”_

He forced yet more magic through the wound. 

No change. Not even the slightest shift in Arthur’s life-force—his essence—to let him know that the balance was shifting in his favour.

He yelled out another spell, the most powerful one he could remember. 

_“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!”_

Again, as the magic faded away, he could tell there was no change.

Arthur grasped weakly at his arm. “Merlin,” he managed to say. “It’s okay. You can’t save me.”

“Like hell I can’t,” Merlin gritted out. “I won’t lose you again,” he said, tears starting to fall as his chin quivered. “I refuse to. I won’t! I won’t let them take you from me again!”

He closed his eyes and reached for his magic again. He could feel it deep in his chest, burning hot and deep, as natural to him as his heartbeat. He grasped it firmly and commanded it, with no spell this time to shape the magic—just pure brute force. _You will heal him. You will save him. I will have him. HEAL HIM._

The magic exploded in Merlin’s chest, engulfing and consuming every cell of his body with searing, bright pain. His arms trembled with effort as the magic rushed down them and through his hands into the wound, and like a thousand tiny needles he could feel the wound knitting together, the magic rebuilding blood vessels and flesh beneath his palms and inside Arthur’s chest.

Arthur gasped, his back arching as he flung back his head, his whole body glowing from the magic, and finally, once every part of the wound had been healed and made new again, he slumped into Merlin’s waiting arms. Merlin held him close and rocked him back and forth.

“Come on, Arthur, come on,” he muttered under his breath, tears pricking anew beneath his eyelids. “Please, _please_. I can’t go through losing you again.”

He pressed his face into Arthur’s soft blond hair and wept. He had failed Arthur again. His king. His love.

The was a small stirring in his arms, and a light chuckle. “I thought I told you, no man was worth your tears.”

Merlin pulled his face away and looked down at Arthur, hastily swiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

“Y-you’re certainly not,” he choked out. They both laughed. “Are you…?”

Arthur touched his hand to his chest and looked up at Merlin with astonishment. “I think… Yeah. But that… that’s not possible.” He pushed his bloodied T-shirt up and examined his chest. The skin there was smooth and unblemished; there wasn’t so much as a scratch on him, yet moments before there had been a gaping wound where Mordred had stabbed him.

Watching, Merlin started to feel a bit faint, and he realised the strangest thing. There was a sharp pain blooming in his chest. His vision blurred and the world started to tilt and swirl around him. He suddenly felt incredibly light, almost as though he was floating. Except—there was the darkness that was slowly encroaching on him… He just… he didn’t feel— 

***

“Merlin, when are you going to come back to work?” came Sophia’s voice through the small speaker of his phone several weeks later. “George is _awful_ and I miss you and our walks together so much! If we don’t get to have one soon, I am going to _burst_!”

Merlin chuckled, trying to stifle a yawn. It had been almost two weeks now since he had restored Arthur and inadvertently taken on his wound before fainting clean away. “Just like a swooning maiden, Merlin!” Arthur had told him. He had been completely wiped out with such an immense use of magic. He hadn’t realised that he was taking Arthur’s wound upon himself. But he guessed that it made sense that, in order to heal Arthur, the wound had had to go somewhere. The Old Religion liked balance. 

As a result, Merlin had been in a coma for several days afterwards, his body doing its best to heal, rest, and recuperate. They’d released him from the hospital a few days ago now. His wound was healing nicely, and he could now get around without it causing him anything more than the odd twinge of pain. He was trying his best to be patient, but he was beginning to get tired of doing nothing and hanging around the flat all day.

He really wanted to go back to work, but there was no way Gaius or Arthur would let him go back just yet, and he himself wasn’t sure that he would be fit enough to do his job.

“Well, hopefully you won’t have to put up with George for too much longer. And you can always talk to Arthur if something is bothering you, you know.” he said warily.

“But I don’t want to talk with Arthur! I want to talk with you. You are the one who knows me the best. Besides, he and Gwen seem to be getting on rather swimmingly. I’d be jealous, but you know, _you’re_ sleeping with Arthur and _Gwen_ is my fianc—”

“What!?” exclaimed Merlin, shooting up in bed and suddenly very much awake. “Sophia Windsor, _are you engaged?_ ”

Sophia giggled at him, and Gwen’s hand appeared on the phone screen, a gold band with a large stone visible on her ring finger. 

“Yes! Which is exactly why we need you to come back! I need your help breaking the news to father AND stopping everyone else from taking over our wedding plans! Oh, and to help plan the official announcement!”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise. I’m feeling better and better each and every day.”

“Ignore her, Merlin. She’s just being antsy,” said Gwen. “You take as long as you need to get better. You were stabbed! You can’t just rush back to work after that. It takes time. We’ll be fine holding onto our news until you’re ready to come back. Someone...” Gwen directed a fond look at Sophia off-screen, “just doesn’t have any patience. I for one am happy for us to enjoy this news ourselves before we have to share it with the rest of the world.”

“My beautiful fiancée is right,” said Sophia, squeezing up next to Gwen. “We can wait. Take all the time you need. But we simply _must_ start taking our walks again soon. As soon as Gaius lets you go outside, okay?”

“I promise,” replied Merlin with a smile.

“Anyway, enough about us! When are you and Arthur going to get married?” Sophia asked excitedly. “Oooh, we could make it a double wedding!”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at them, and then looked up as the door opened and Arthur came in with two mugs of tea.

“We’re in no hurry to do anything like that,” he told them, smiling at Arthur. “Unlike some people.” 

Besides, Merlin had been waiting for centuries for Arthur; he wasn’t going to rush things now. What was a few more years compared to all that he’d been though?

“Tell them to mind their own business,” Arthur said, placing the tea on the bedside table.

“Look, I have to go. Talk to you soon. Bye!”

“Ooooh!” squeed Sophia and Gwen. “Merlin and Arthur sitting in bed, K-I-S-S—” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and hung up on them.

“What did they want?” Arthur asked.

“Sophia was telling me how much she wants me to come back, and Gwen was telling me to take my time.”

“Gwen is a smart kid,” Arthur said, perching on the side of the bed and handing Merlin his mug. 

Merlin grinned at him as he took it and shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Get used to what?” asked Arthur, sipping his tea.

“You, serving me. Doesn’t it feel strange to you?”

Arthur shrugged. “I guess, in a way, when I think back. But not now. I’m not a king anymore. I’m not a knight. I’m just a regular man.”

Reaching out to take Arthur’s hand in his, Merlin looked over at him earnestly, letting him see all the years of waiting and hoping and longing he’d lived through for their reunion. “You will always be my king.” 

Giving him a small smile, Arthur cleared his throat and looked away. “I know I never said it then, but I did— and still do—love you, you know that right?” 

“Of course,” replied Merlin. “It wasn’t like either of us were in a position to say it back then, in Camelot.”

Arthur looked over at him sharply. Both of them had alluded and danced around their memories of the past, but neither of them had mentioned Camelot by name yet, nor had they mentioned Arthur’s dying in Merlin’s arms and all those repressed feelings. There were so many things to think about and unpack and discuss.

“I guess we have a lot to talk about,” said Arthur finally, looking at his hands.

“We do,” agreed Merlin. “But fortunately, we have an entire lifetime to do it in. Come over here.” Merlin patted Arthur’s spot next to him in the bed and put his tea back on the nightstand. 

Kicking off his shoes, Arthur clambered onto the bed. Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, which for once, Arthur allowed. He had mostly been treating Merlin with kid gloves since he’d come home, as though he would break if Arthur so much as breathed on him. Merlin was sick and tired of it.

“Mmm, I’ve missed that,” he said, smoothing his hands down Arthur’s chest. He was looking forward to getting things back to how they were, before they went to Pride, and before things had gone a bit off kilter in Camelot. 

“Yeah,” agreed Arthur.

“I’m glad we got to have another first time.”

Arthur looked at him fondly. “You still remember that?”

“Of course, I do! I could hardly forget you pinning me against the wall, snogging my brains out, then throwing me down on your bed to have your wicked way with me.”

Arthur laughed as he replied, “Yeah, I wasn’t really one for romance then. I apologise.”

Merlin cradled Arthur’s cheeks in his hands, smoothing his fingers over Arthur’s cheekbones and the corner of his plush, kissable lips. He smiled as he took in Arthur’s face. _His_ Arthur’s face. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about. And for the record, you’re still terrible at romance. But,” Merlin said, kissing him again, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Oh,” said Arthur, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I rather hope you will.”

With a snort of laughter, Merlin rolled Arthur onto his back and straddled him.

“Merlin!” Arthur protested. “You’re supposed to be resting and taking it easy!”

“I’ve been doing nothing _but_ taking it easy for weeks now and it’s driving me crazy. Especially the way you’re acting like I’m going to break. I am _fine_.”

Arthur’s face crumbled. “I just… I wanted to make it up to you. For all those times in the past, that I should have known that something was wrong. For all those times when my heart was telling me that something was off, but my head told me you appeared fine and therefore you must be. As though out of sight meant it should also be out of mind. I couldn’t figure it out, even though it was all happening right under my nose. All the things you did for me, Merlin. All those times you sacrificed your own well-being for mine and I never knew…”

“Shh, shh,” Merlin reassured him. “It’s okay. It’s the past now. But I would do it all over again in a heartbeat to keep you safe. Okay?”

Arthur nodded cautiously at him.

“Now, allow me to serve you, Sire,” Merlin said with a wicked grin, as his nimble fingers started to work Arthur’s belt undone.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, in a warning tone.

Pausing, Merlin glanced up at him. He felt worried all of a sudden. Was this wrong? Was Arthur not ready to be so intimate again, now that they both knew and remembered all that they’d gone through together? 

“Sorry,” Merlin said sitting back on his heels. “Is this too soon…?”

“No, no,” said Arthur, trying to right himself to sitting. “It’s just, you don’t need to do this anymore.”

Merlin felt puzzled. “I don’t understand. Do what? Sex? You don’t—Do you want Gwen…?”

“Gwen!? No. No. She’s lovely, kind, smart. Just like she always was, and I can understand why we get on so well now. But no, I don’t want her. Things are different now. What I meant is that you don’t need to serve me. Not any more. I may have been a king in the past, but I’m not a king now. And you… I mean, just look at you! You have your own life, and you’ve experienced so much. You’re not my servant anymore.”

“Don’t you _dare_ say that,” hissed Merlin, anger suddenly rearing up hot and bright in his chest. “I told you I’d be your servant until the day I died, and I mean it.”

Arthur forehead furrowed. “I don’t… have you… Merlin, you don’t mean to say you’ve been alive for all this time?”

Tears started to pool in his eyes and he swallowed against the lump in his throat as he stared down at his hands, still gripping Arthur’s belt. All the feelings that had crept up on him, that haunted him in his sleep, hit him full-force, and a tear slowly rolled down his cheek as he sniffled.

“Oh, Merlin,” said Arthur, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.

Merlin pressed his face against Arthur’s neck, breathing in the scent that was so similar, though much cleaner than it had been back in Camelot. He let out a whimper, which quickly turned into tears until he was bawling, each sob wracking his body as he felt all the sadness, sorrow and grief he’d experienced over the long, long years waiting for Arthur to return to him.

“Hey,” continued Arthur softly, carding a hand slowly through Merlin’s hair as his free hand rubbed Merlin’s back. “It’s okay. It’s all right. I’m here now. I’m back. And I’m so, so sorry I was gone for so long. For all that you suffered waiting for me. Just—let it all out. That’s it.”

Finally, several minutes later, Merlin’s sobs quietened and his breathing calmed. He pulled himself away from Arthur and wiped at his face with his hands, still sniffing.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky.

“No more apologies tonight,” Arthur told him. “Certainly not from you.”

Merlin smiled at him through tears. “Okay,” he agreed.

Pulling him back in for another hug, Arthur said, “We’re back together now, and if I have my way, we’ll never be parted.”

Arthur kissed his lips softly and smiled back at him as he smoothed Merlin’s hair back from his forehead. “I will say you’ve aged better than I expected, though.”

“I’d like to see you looking better after a thousand years,” Merlin groused.

Arthur motioned down at himself. “Technically, I’m still the same person, aren’t I?”

Narrowing his eyes, Merlin jabbed him sharply with a finger in the ribs. 

“Ow!” complained Arthur. “That hurt!”

“Guess I’ll have to kiss it better,” said Merlin mischievously. 

“While you’re down there, I’ve got something else you might want to kiss better…”

Merlin snorted and tugged Arthur’s belt undone. He undid his trousers and tugged them off along with his underwear and socks, desperate to reconnect properly now that Arthur seemed up for it. 

He eagerly clambered back onto the bed and pulled Arthur close to kiss him again. “Now are you going to let me serve you, or not?” he murmured, as his hand snaked between them and his fingers found Arthur’s interested cock. “For old times’ sake?”

Arthur hummed happily in response, and Merlin pulled away again to drink him in. Though his memories had faded and blurred a bit over the years, he was sure he would always recognise that bump in Arthur’s noble nose, the blue of his eyes, the golden burnish of his hair in the late afternoon sun. His Arthur, finally returned to him.

He pushed Arthur down on the bed, pinning him there. Though he’d had weeks to try and process it, he could still barely comprehend it all. With a glance over at his bedside table, he magicked the drawer open and a bottle of lube flew out into his hand. He pushed his own pyjamas down his thighs and squeezed some lube out onto his fingers, then proceeded to take them both in hand and slowly pumped up and down. 

Arthur eyes fluttered closed. “Mmm.”

“I missed you, you know?” said Merlin softly.

“I doubt it. I was a privileged arse. I’m sure you were glad to be free of me.”

"But you're _my_ privileged arse," gasped Merlin as he shook his head in reply.

"I should have treated you better, I can see that now,” said Arthur, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s. “I'm sorry."

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “I’m sure you can think of ways to make it up to me…”

With an evil grin and a raised eyebrow Arthur asked, “Yeah? You sound like you have a fair few ideas yourself. Why don’t you elaborate? Or better still, you could demonstrate.”

Merlin grinned and released their cocks to grasp the collar of Arthur’s shirt. He gave him a kiss. 

“First, you could kiss me and then undress me. Slowly.” 

He unbuttoned Arthur’s shirt and slid it off one shoulder, tenderly kissing Arthur’s neck, just as he had always wanted to do all those years ago. 

“Then you could kiss me, caress me, look at me to your heart’s content,” he said, eyeing the newly revealed expanse of Arthur’s chest and abs. He felt himself blush as his eyes met Arthur’s, who was looking back at him intently and with such love. 

Clearing his throat, Merlin continued. “Then,” his lips curved into a smile as he pressed them against Arthur’s bare skin, “you could let people know that I’m yours.”

“Would you like that?” There was a smirk in Arthur’s voice.

Merlin hummed his approval and started sucking at the point where Arthur’s collarbone met his neck. 

Arthur gasped, and his hands gripped Merlin’s hips. “Ah, are you—are you marking me?” he asked incredulously, his breath hitching as Merlin sunk his teeth in. His fingers were digging in so hard, Merlin knew that he’d have his own marks from them later on.

“Yes,” he said once he broke away and ran his fingers gently over his masterpiece. “I want people to know. No more hiding what we feel for each other from ourselves or from others.” 

“I would never hide us. It’s not like before, when we couldn’t… I mean, we didn’t even have words, for what we were to each other...”

Merlin looked down at his hands. It was true. They had never talked about it. 

As Arthur said, they couldn’t. Arthur had been too constipated to talk about anything even remotely related to everyday, run of the mill feelings like happiness, sadness and anger, let alone the burgeoning feelings of love. 

And Merlin, well, Merlin had been hiding so many secrets and truths from Arthur then; he couldn’t bear to think about how much Arthur would hate him if he knew, how he would realise that Merlin wasn’t worthy of the love between them, so he hadn’t exactly been eager to talk about things either.

And it would never have ever been acceptable for a king to be with his manservant. To be with any man at all, for that matter. Yet despite all of the obstacles between them, they had both known what they’d wanted and how they had felt. Eventually they had given in to the inevitable, but only behind closed doors. And all that had stopped once Arthur had become a married man.

Merlin was thankful that, a thousand years later, attitudes had changed. Same sex couples were acknowledged and accepted in the land that had previously been known as Albion. Things still weren’t perfect—far from it. But compared to Camelot, Merlin’s life was hugely progressive. To be honest, if they _had_ allowed themselves to act on things in public or declared their love back then, Merlin would probably have ended up on the chopping block or pyre quicker than he would have for having magic. Though, in retrospect, Merlin was sure the entire castle actually had know how they’d felt and he’d never been treated any differently for it, so perhaps they had been more progressive than Merlin gave them credit for. 

Arthur took Merlin’s chin in his hand and tilted his head up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I feel like we’ve been given a second chance, so let’s just stop thinking and fretting about things and make it count, yeah?”

“Yeah,” breathed Merlin, returning his kiss. 

“In fact,” said Arthur through their kisses as he shrugged off the rest of his shirt. “I think we ought—” He found the hem of Merlin’s T-shirt and started to haul it over his head, breaking their kiss, “to start appreciating things right now.”

He ran his nose along Merlin’s neck. “So you want people to know that you’re mine, do you? I don’t think that will be particularly difficult. They only have to look at you to know who your master is. Just like they did back in Camelot. No one even dared to look at you there,” he gloated. 

“That was your doing?” 

“Of course. I wanted you all for myself. Can you blame me? And, Mr Emrys, I intend to continue that trend.” He waggled his eyebrows again.

“That’s still not sexy,” Merlin complained.

“I’ll show you sexy!” Arthur growled, flipping Merlin over onto the bed. 

He held Merlin down with a firm hand to his chest and then went to work pulling Merlin’s pyjama bottoms the rest of the way off before discarding them. Neither of them were particularly bothered about where they landed. 

Arthur brushed his fingers lightly up Merlin’s thighs, and Merlin couldn’t help but shudder as his muscles twitched at Arthur’s caress. Arthur followed his fingers with soft, feathery kisses until he met the junction of Merlin’s thigh. He pressed his face into the v of Merlin’s hip and inhaled. 

“Arthur!” Merlin whined trying to push him towards his all too eager hard-on.

But Arthur wouldn’t be hurried.

“Hush, my love,” he murmured. “I want to enjoy you.” 

Merlin huffed out a breath, biting his lip as Arthur nosed his way along his inner thigh. 

“I want to do all the things I didn’t take the care or time to do before.”

“Ah—All right,” Merlin said, barely able to focus on words as Arthur trailed his tongue along his thigh all the way to his belly, his breath hot and moist against his skin, kissing Merlin’s belly-button before continuing up his abs until his reached Merlin’s chest. He glanced up at Merlin with a wicked grin as he tweaked a nipple, and Merlin gasped. 

“I remember this,” Arthur said, snaking his tongue around the other nipple. “I could drive you crazy just from this.”

Merlin shuddered, and his fingers gripped Arthur’s hair.

“Ah—God. Fuck— Ah, shit! Arthur!” he cried. 

“In fact, there was that one time, one morning where I did just that.”

“Oh, shit. Ah—That wasn’t fair!” exclaimed Merlin, also recalling the event in question. Arthur had pushed him up against a bedpost and held him him fast, hands above his head as he’d pushed up Merlin’s shirt. The poor breakfast tray had been abandoned to gravity as Arthur had had his way with him. Merlin had come embarrassingly quickly.

Echoing that day, Arthur took Merlin’s hand from his hair and pinned each of Merlin’s wrists on either side of his head, restraining him with more force than was necessary. 

He took Merlin’s mouth with a bruising kiss, and Merlin was unable to do anything other than respond to it, before Arthur broke away breathless and started a punishing assault on Merlin’s nipples, nipping, sucking, biting and soothing with a lathing of his tongue.

“Arthur— Oh God, shit. I— I—”

Merlin flung his head back on the pillow, his chest heaving as he writhed helplessly, trapped under Arthur’s weight and held fast within Arthur’s grip. It felt amazing, being held down like this, unable to do anything but give in to Arthur. He felt himself edging ever closer to the cusp of his orgasm. His magic coiled deep in his belly, threatening to overwhelm him too. He couldn’t— He could barely focus his thoughts. He could barely even breathe as his body twitched and tensed in equal measure. 

All the could focus on was making sure he didn’t give Arthur the satisfaction of coming untouched. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Arthur would crow over him and never let him live it down. 

And he couldn’t beg, either. Arthur would be jubilant to hear that, proud of how he hadn’t lost his touch when it came to making Merlin weak and helpless and reducing him to a gibbering mess.

Arthur trailed his fingers lightly, teasingly over Merlin’s abs and towards, his crotch and Merlin found his muscles twitching and his body arching involuntarily as he was engulfed by a buzz of arousal.

“Arthur, please—! I— I—” Merlin pleaded, looking up at him, breathless, immediately forgetting that he hadn’t meant to beg. “I need to— I want—”

Finally relenting, Arthur pulled himself away from Merlin’s tender nipples and started to thrust against him, his stiff, hard cock fucking heavenly as it slid against Merlin’s own. Their combined pre-come gave just the right amount of slickness to ease the way, but not so much that all friction was lost. Arthur pressed his forehead to Merlin’s as he continued to undulate languorously, as though they had the rest of their lives to do this. As though he was not as desperate as Merlin was to come. Merlin arched himself into Arthur’s momentum, and they found their rhythm together. 

Spitting into his hand, Merlin eased it in between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around them both. The hard yet velvety feel of Arthur’s cock against his was amazing, and so incredibly comfortable and familiar that Merlin felt tears begin to prick at his eyes, and he finally felt the last piece of the puzzle slip into place, that once empty space in his heart filling with an overwhelming love for the perfectly flawed man above him, after so many years of wanting, needing, yearning for him to return.

“Oh God, Merlin,” Arthur rasped as he continued to rock into Merlin’s grip. “Merlin, you— I—”

His jaw went slack and his hips stuttered and faltered, his cock throbbing against Merlin as he came with a silent gasp.

Merlin worked his hand faster and soon followed, a burst of stars winking behind his eyelids as his magic exploded within him. The lights in the room flickered and the bed suddenly free fell from where—unbeknownst to him and Arthur—it had been hovering several inches above the ground.

“Wha—?” Arthur exclaimed, looking around them anxiously before meeting Merlin’s eyes. “Oh! Magic?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Merlin apologised. 

Arthur smiled and kissed him softly. “Don’t be. It’s a part of you, and it saved my life. _You_ saved my life.”

“I couldn’t lose you again,” said Merlin, tracing a gentle line along Arthur’s jaw. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” breathed Arthur. “Not for a long, long time.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Merlin told him as he pulled Arthur into his arms, taking solace and comfort in the way Arthur’s heart thumped and his chest rose and fell against his.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

Arthur rolled off of him and onto his side, looking happy and content in a way he never had been in Camelot, with the weight of his impending crown heavy on his brow. “I know. I hope you know how much I love you, too. How much I’ve always loved you.”

Merlin nodded at him and dared to snuggle up close, something that in Camelot he certainly would not have allowed.

“Now, come on, enough of being soppy,” Arthur said, pulling the duvet up over them both. “You need to rest.”

Merlin smiled to himself as he nestled into Arthur’s arms, and he felt his eyes slowly drifting shut, satisfied that he and Arthur were finally reunited, safe in the knowledge that they would never be parted again.

**Author's Note:**

> The magic spells used by Merlin:
> 
> Gestepe hole. Þurhhæle! (“Heal the injury! Heal thoroughly!”)
> 
> “Þurhhæle dolgbenn” (“Heal thoroughly the wound”)
> 
> “Ahlúttre þá séocnes” [se]. “Þurhhæle bræd” (“Cleanse the sickness. Heal thoroughly the flesh”)
> 
> Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ! (“I heal you thoroughly from your mortal wound with those special powers that are ancient! Oh!”)


End file.
